Travel – Page 7 – Britt Skrabanek

The Totem Pole Quest

On July 28th I was sent on a quest by fellow Kiwi blogger, Gallivanta from Silkannthreades. A totem pole quest.

For real?

Yep.

She dedicated a post to me in honor of the release of my third book, Nola Fran Evie. But the dedication came with a proviso…I had to locate a totem pole by Chief Lelooska somewhere in Portland.

The only clue Gallivanta provided was that a replica of the totem pole stood 7,000 miles away in Christchurch Airport, New Zealand. (Who knew?!)

And so I began my quest.

Totem Pole, I'm comin' to get ya! — Totem Pole, I’m comin’ to get ya!

HE WHO CUTS WOOD

Like any modern-day hero, I used my trusty compass, the Internet, to search for the totem pole. I wore a smug look on my face as I let Google do the work for me from the comfort of my home.

But, I couldn’t find its exact location.

However, I did step into the world of Chief Don “Lelooska” Smith, a great man who was given a great name at the age of 12—“He Who Cuts Against Wood with a Knife”.

And cut against wood with a knife is what he did…all his life in beautiful Oregon. The man carved thousands of masks and over a hundred totem poles, including the one I was hunting with the replica in New Zealand, until he died of cancer in 1996.

So, what’s with the New Zealand connection?

During the 1959 Oregon Centennial Exposition, the intricate pole was carved from cedar to honor Oregonian soldiers who participated in Operation Deep Freeze, a famous multinational series of exploratory missions to Antarctica during the late 1950s.

The base for Operation Deep Freeze was Christchurch Airport.

(And, you silly things never thought you’d learn anything on this blog.)

I was frustrated that I couldn’t find where the totem pole was today in Oregon and began to think that I was failing my mission. As I’m not the quitting type, I kept digging and digging and digging online, which eventually led me to…

THE OREGON ZOO???

Aha! I found you, Totem Pole!

Ecstatic, I called the zoo to plan my heroic visit. After weeks of online research I imagined staring proudly at the totem pole, and how I would gleefully show Gallivanta that I had completed the totem pole challenge in less than a month.

But…the totem pole wasn’t there.

I panicked. Surely the zoo didn’t get rid of this exceptional piece of tribal artistry that had been living there for decades. Surely not!

I talked to one person, then another person, and yet another person until I found Wayne, the mighty project engineer. He said…

THE TOTEM POLE’S IN THE SHOP

Last year the Oregon Zoo began a major transformation to create the Condors of Columbia, which opened in May, and Elephant Lands, a project I’m very excited about which is opening in 2015. This expansion will quadruple the space the elephants inhabit, drawing on more than fifty years of research and science-based care to build a natural environment to honor the animals.

Come on, who doesn’t love elephants?!

During this time, the pole underwent a hefty restoration process—repairing cracks and rot, as well as painting, cleaning and detailing the carving. It was an intense team effort led by Lelooska’s brother, Chief Fearon “Tsungani” Smith, assisted by zoo volunteers, and overseen by the Lelooska Foundation.

This totem pole’s kind of a big deal.

Wayne and the Oregon Zoo were excited to hear about my totem pole quest and were generous to bring my husband, Mr. H, and I to the zoo when the totem pole was back in action.

It was finally happening. Now at the end of September, I was coming to the end of my quest. I was beaming with pride, eager to see the elusive totem pole I had chased for two months.

Then, I did something so typically Britt…

I BOTCHED IT

I went on the wrong day, before the pole was resurrected.

Good one, Britt!

I know, I know. But, we made the best of it and enjoyed a leisurely stroll through the zoo.

The bear and I had matching outfits. — This bear and I had matching outfits.

This goat trio looked like they were posing for an album cover.

bobcat in cave — This bobcat let us hang out in his cave.

I skipped the carcass feeding. But Mr. H seemed satisfied.

THE OOPSY CONFESSION

The following Monday I sheepishly admitted my mistake to Wayne from the zoo. He was nice enough to pat me gently on the head and invite us back for another visit when the pole was actually there.

Then finally…

TOTEM POLE SUCCESS!!!

This is truly one of the best zoos I have ever been to and I look forward to Elephant Lands opening next year. A big thank you to Wayne and the Oregon Zoo for being so awesome during the totem pole quest.

Gallivanta, you stinker…totem pole quest COMPLETED! 🙂

Elegant Attitudes in Seattle

Marijuana and fried fish intermingled with the gentle breeze. Aggressive construction in the growing city was outmatched by rhythmic waves and the soft creaking of the delightful ferris wheel.

Gulls soared lazily above the pier, occasionally taking a dive to retrieve a salty snack. People decked out in their summer duds crowded around the white-aproned fish mongers launching fish across the stalls. The healing flavors of raw oysters and cold beer tasted like the best parts of earth.

We were somewhere else. Seattle.

Mr. H and I hadn’t gone out of town since we moved to Portland at the end of March. Truthfully, we hadn’t been on vacation in almost a year, since our awesome road trip to Montreal last September.

For me this year has been an eventful one with my mom’s breast cancer recovery, a cross-country move, a touch of unemployment, and my third book release. When I say that we needed this little getaway, good grief do I mean it!

An easy three-hour drive listening to the genius of Pearl Jam with the windows down made for a solid start to our weekend as we finally traveled together to a city we had always wanted to, our Mecca of grunge.

Mr. H and I were fortunate enough to spend our adolescent years during a renaissance of rock, a time when Seattle birthed grunge music. Though we grew up in completely different parts of the country, our love for music traveled parallel paths.

Naturally, Seattle was a no-brainer decision for a getaway.

As mentioned in the intro, we headed to Pike Place Market along with many other eager tourists. We ignored the frivolous, mile-long line at the original Starbucks in search of oysters and beer, which we happily discovered in a tucked away courtyard with a bird sanctuary.

Crowds aren’t our favorite but it was worth it to catch the waterfront vibe, a peaceful retreat from the rapid construction all around the city as it tries to keep up with the Pacific Northwest population boom.

We stayed in the artsy neighborhood of Fremont, which was way more our speed and reminiscent of our homey neighborhood in Portland. However, we waltzed into our AirBnB flat as planned to find the place still disheveled from the previous guests. We shrugged, unpacked, then sipped on exceptional local beers on the deck.

Our host rounded the corner with his dog and gawked at us. He thought we were scheduled to arrive the next day and spewed a series of apologies while pacing nervously. Being the easy-going couple that we are, we told him not to sweat it and our host tidied up as we continued relaxing outside.

When he bounced back out, he calmly said: “You have an elegant attitude. That spirit will take you far.”

That was perhaps the best compliment I’d ever heard and it made me smile.

The next day we ventured to Ballard Locks, another touristy spot, but an educational one that is very free and very fun. Here curious bystanders get to watch millions of dollars of boats get squeezed into a concrete alley, which then turns into a fascinating elevator.

A complex intersection between the salt water beyond and the fresh water of the canal, the lock waters are manipulated to allow the boats to travel back and forth. We watched this grouping of boats start at our level, then slowly drop down 26 feet.

See the shadowy characters on the bottom right of the pic below? That’s us and a bunch of other grinning tourists staring and taking pictures on the sidelines.

Being on display for the tourists while being in the hands of the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers must be quite the sobering half-hour for these summertime boaters. I imagine they’re pretty damn happy when that bridge door opens and they are free to go.

After the locks we went in search of more oysters and decided to splurge at a restaurant that Bon Appetit included in their Top 20 Most Important Restaurants in America. We accidentally scored the best seats at the Walrus and the Carpenter, right at the oyster bar with the patio doors wide open behind us.

Between our sensational Moscow Mules, oysters, and small plates, we talked about nothing and everything. We reminisced about our late afternoon at Ballard Locks and discussed the incredible salmon ladder.

Besides the boats, the locks provide a critical passage for the salmon heading upstream. A fish ladder with 21 steps allows the salmon to climb to the freshwater side.

We lucked out with our August visit, the best time to catch King Salmon, and had the honor of watching these beefy, stoic fellows passing through in the underground viewing room. It was very awesome to witness these prehistoric-like creatures floating by us before they continued their long journey upstream, up a watery ladder of all things.

We stood there and marveled at the beautiful perseverance of the mighty salmon. To think, they go through all of that trouble to do one thing…spawn.

Dream a Little Dream On a Streetcar

Last Friday evening I waited with a jittery bunch of passengers for the North-South line streetcar to arrive in the middle of downtown.

Some, like me, were part of the late bunch who had just finished work. But most were out on the town, traipsing amongst the vast array of quality restaurants and watering holes.

I was in a mood.

After work I was wiped out and wanted nothing more than to get home, wind down with a cold beer, and hang out with Mr. H and the cats.

As the streetcar approached, it looked packed. It was warm that night, and being smashed up against strangers was the last thing I wanted to do.

Then, I began to hear a familiar tune.

Stars shining bright above you
Night breezes seem to whisper “I love you”

(Okay, I’m losing it. Am I hearing Ella Fitzgerald on the freaking streetcar?)

Birds singing in the sycamore trees
Dream a little dream of me

Yes, I was.

The streetcar doors opened to reveal a full-on jazz trio—two guys and a gal—clad in 1940s duds. She was the lead singer, one guy played the guitar and sang with her, while the other manned an upright bass.

We all squished into what I could only describe as a party train from another time. Fortunately, there were plenty of others around to console my fear of insanity. Historical fiction writing can blur the lines of reality and make-believe in my head sometimes.

It turns out that I happened upon another thing that makes the city of Portland that much more awesome.

Streetcar Mobile Musicfest celebrates the city by featuring local musicians on downtown streetcars at various times of the year. The live music is included with your streetcar fare, which is a whopping buck one way.

Lucky me had the privilege to see Boy & Bean. They were talented and mesmerizing.

To say that this was a magical experience doesn’t even do it justice.

The music transformed the public transportation experience entirely. Usually everyone tunes out on the streetcar, listening to music, fiddling with their smartphones, or sitting with their arms crossed and staring out the window.

That night everyone tuned in.

Riders were smiling, clapping, photographing, filming, and swaying in the seats and aisles.

There was an old couple next to me dancing and singing the whole time. The woman and I looked at each other with foolishly happy tears in our eyes. From two completely generations, we grinned and moved together, connected by a few beautiful minutes on a crowded downtown streetcar.

It would not have been hard to spend hours there, enjoying the vibe with all of those strangers as the city lights sailed by. Of course, I almost missed my stop and jumped up just in time.

I reluctantly exited the streetcar and walked home in a different mood than when I got on, jiving inside.

It Pulls Me In

Give me mountains, give me deserts, give me rivers, give me forests and I am captivated—starry-eyed and serene.

Yet, the sea is so different. It pulls me in.

Its power is something I cannot fight, something I am willing to surrender to.

I am a happy slave to the sea. For I am so insignificant when I am around it, because it is greater than I will ever be.

Nothing feels better than being humbled and calmed this way. To know that all of my fears and worries are specks, like grains of sand easily swept away by the tide.

With my sandals casually held in one hand and a salty breeze brushing the other, my toes sunk into the wet sand as I walked along the beach with my love by my side. He is always like that tide, pulling me in, soothing me and making me a better person.

I was away from the sea for too long. I need it near me, to remind me of the unknown.

That it is okay to just be.

Last Sunday Mr. H and I hopped in the car and drove to Cannon Beach to recharge. I got more out of it than I expected, including a little sunburn and a lot of peace.

Here are some fun pix to round out the awesome day we had.

We drank local pale ales on the patio…

We ate clam chowder topped with shrimp in sourdough bread bowls…

There was an impromptu showgirl moment…

A cool Mr. H shot in front of Haystack Rock…

And, the big finale…

It’s so easy to get wrapped up in the routines we all create.

If you haven’t lately, go out and find something that pulls you in.

Yin-Yang and Pop Tarts

Last Friday I was cooped up all morning in my pajamas, a mad writer in the final stages of novel editing. My eyes were burning and I was barely on speaking terms with the English language.

As it was due time to see the light of day, I rode Silvie the bike through bustling downtown Portland and found some surprising tranquility.

There are things about Lan Su Chinese Garden that would normally keep me far, far away. It’s located in the city’s touristy Chinatown and you have to fork over nearly 10 bucks to get in the front door.

But, I gave it a go.

I decided to geek out and take the walking tour.

The tour guide with the cheesy Yin-Yang baseball cap almost made me change my mind, but he had me with his calm demeanor. He even told us we could leave at any time, or wander away and come back.

There were covered walkways throughout, but the rain was a soft drizzle so none of us cared about getting wet. Rumor has it that a heavier rain at Lan Su is nothing short of magical as the rain slips off the ornate roofs to create a beaded curtain effect.

It was incredible to learn the meaning of everything encompassing us—the stories and poetry, the Yin and Yang from floor to ceiling.

Bridges were designed in a zig-zag pattern to encourage the walker to slow down and absorb their surroundings.

At a leisurely pace I marveled at this island of serenity surrounded by noise and grime, lapsing into a walking meditation. Then I began to be awe-inspired by the Yin-Yang connection beyond the walls, in the way the city itself contrasted starkly with the garden.

To finish my sweet adventure I stopped into the tea house within the garden for sustenance. Before you enter there is a sign requesting guests to silence their cell phones. Um…awesome.

For my first ever formal tea experience, I chose the Golden Monkey black tea accompanied by pecan cookies.

Exquisite music struck up next to me and suddenly I noticed the man serenading us.

I purposely abandoned my Kindle in my bag, sat back and enjoyed. There was no need to do anything else but that.

When I left the garden with sweets and tea lingering on my breath, my skin still damp from the rain, and a drunken grin on my face…it all changed. The traffic jarred my senses, and so did the man who yelled at me the second I was on the sidewalk.

“Hey! What’s in that helmet? Huh? What’s in that helmet?”

A homeless man, startling the poor tourist families passing by, had a thing for my bright green bike helmet. I crossed the street and hurried over to my bike. He made a beeline for me.

Sure, it’s noon in the middle of a city. But when an unstable man approaches me, I’m on high alert. I’ve been an urban bike commuter for the past six years. As such, I have two survival plans…

Plan #1: Unlock the bike with a quickness, then ride like hell.

Plan #2: Whack the attacker with my bike lock.

This is my bike lock.

He was muttering incoherent things and flailing wildly while I unlocked my bike as quickly as I could. I realized that I would have to face him head on.

I gripped my bike lock in my right hand and stared at him without speaking.

He looked me up and down and said: “Alright.” He showed me what was left of his teeth as he smiled, then he gave me a peace-offering, which he carefully rested upon Silvie’s handlebar.

The brown sugar and cinnamon Pop Tarts.

In Yin and Yang there are opposites which cannot exist without one another. Fire and water. Male and female. Light and dark.

Perhaps me and Pop Tart Man are another example of this philosophy. Or perhaps, I just scored a bag of Pop Tarts.