Since today happens to be my birthday, I will be treating myself to a grand dinner at the Jen Jen Safari Restaurant located in the little town of Estacada. But first I have to get there. I am more than happy to check out of my campground in Coeur d'Alene after a somewhat sleepless night there. It's a nice campground, but it was by far the loudest one I've stayed at so far. Quiet hours apply from 10pm until 7am, but people all around me were cranking up their Motley Crue and making one beer run after another,
gunning their El Caminos right next to my cabin. The third time they woke me up, I stuck my head out the window and screamed for them to shut up.
After that you could've heard a pin drop. Or a beer can getting crunched. Zzzz.
Three hundred and eighty-eight miles later, I pull into the Hampton Inn in Clackamas, Oregon. Ahhh, hotel room. My own bathroom. My own bathroom! Do you realise what a treat this is? Try using a communal bathroom and shower area with strangers for two weeks and you'll know what I mean.
TV! Oh blessed TV! How I'd forgotten what a wonderful device you are! Mixing myself a cranberry/vodka, I plop down on the bed and flip on the TV. What luck! "Urban Cowboy" is on TNT. This is one of my all-time favorite Cheese Movies. The Safari Restaurant is just gonna have to wait until I watch (again) Debra Winger's character Sissy try to win back the love of her life, Bud (John Travolta).
This movie rocks and features a great soundtrack. Growing up in Texas, I remember when this movie came out and thought John Travolta was just the hottest thing in cowboy boots. Of course, that was before Clint Eastwood countered with "Bronco Billy." Mmmm, cowboys. Whoo hoo!
After a couple more drinks and a couple hours of "Urban Cowboy", I stand in the shower for a half hour and let myself be scalded clean. I am definitely taking a bath later.
Grabbing my directions, I head out. It's only twenty miles away so I shouldn't be getting lost. Winding my way through miles of country roads and surrounded by thousands of towering trees, I wonder just how far out in the sticks is this place? A truck pulls out in front of me and - I swear I'm not making this up - there are four fellas in the back wearing bib overalls and drinking something that didn't look like no Coca-Cola. Laughing and waving at me, I gamely smile back and hope they turn soon. They don't. For the next 12 miles, at 40mph, I'm behind them while they wave and talk amongst themselves about which one will get me for a wife.
Finally we get to a divided highway and they're turning right. Waving back as they drive away, I say a prayer that I don't end up with a flat tire on this road later tonight.
Estacada is a nondescript logging town. No matter. I'm here for one reason and one reason only - taxidermy!
