Oregon: Morning in Merril

After another night curled up in our vehicles, this time the two of us shivering a little in my Volvo, we unfurled ourselves in the warming sunlight to a bright, fresh new morning in Merrill, Oregon. Mount Hood glistened in the distance, and the bright green leaves were practically glowing in the early morning dew. We couldn't help but explore the area and scope out a nearby grassy field full of mushrooms! I know, mushrooms might not be that big of a deal to most people, after all, they're generally harbingers of rot and decay, right? But for us, they're absolutely fascinating! I've long been intrigued by mushrooms and the field of mycology, but the desert isn't exactly an environment prone to fostering a plethora of fungal varietals.  We found several different fungi popping up in the field, but we're not educated enough to identify them in the wild like that, plus the sheer variety and volume of fungal forms makes it a daunting task even for the well-educated shroom-hunter. 

After whetting our curiosity in the field, and growing more awkwardly uncomfortable as we gained the awareness that we may have been exploring in an actively watched school field, we headed back to the vehicles. Antho ended up making friends with a woman who, quite literally, popped up out of the bushes while he was taking photos. When a local patrol officer rolled into the same parking lot, our mystery friend laughed and greeted him, informing us that there were only two cops for the entire town, and this one was Brian. Our single serving friendly eagerly told us we needed to swing on down to Medford to take advantage of some of those legendary cheap weed deals that legal weed had brought to Oregon before venturing off. As enticing as that offer was, we were more concerned with making it from Southern Oregon to North-Western Washington, ideally before the day was done. That meant a lot of roads to cover yet! I made a quick jaunt to the local market, where I encountered our mysterious friend enthusiastically discussing pregnancy (and a failing bladder caused by pregnancy) with a very-far-along and visably uncomfortable shop-girl, as I paid for our brunches and coffee. 

Freshly stretched, caffeinated, with snacks and rodents packed and ready, we started to hit the road. Started to, anyway. I didn't make it far at all- literally a block or two at most- before I had to call it and pull over. Despite taking my old grumpy girl to a shop in Vegas and throwing more than $600 at repairs, they hadn't actually addressed the transmission problems (refusal to reverse, on-going leak, etc) I had specifically taken her in for. Given her leak, and the fact the shop had happily informed me "she was just low on fluids", we figured the best option was to check her levels, top her off, and try her out. Since we ended up pulling over in a residential neighborhood, we had to park in front of a home... We were quite surprised when within moments of killing our engines a slight young woman popped out of the house nearest us to inquire if we were alright and ask if we needed help. After talking, we learned her name was Diana, and Diana was such a sweetheart! She called up her roommate, who coincidentally works on big trucks, to see if he could help us any but he was still several hours away yet. We thanked her for her concern, and politely declined her offers to feed us, not wanting to be any trouble. I had transmission fluid I'd picked up at one of our previous stops in Reno, but given how quickly I'd needed it after leaving Vegas, I made sure to make it a priority to get more as soon as we hit Eugene, just to be safe. 

Olliver, my co-pilot, was only bothered by the intensity of the sunlight infiltrating his cage, interrupting his nap. Once we had poured a bunch of fluid back into my thirsty old girl, checked her levels again, and let her run for a minute, we tentatively decided to go for it. We'd made it this far, after all, so why quit now? We were on the final leg of our cross-country run, and if we could make it to Seattle we'd be home. Home at last.  

And wouldn't you know it... it worked. Freshly hydrated, Svetty roared back onto the road with all the fury of a Valkyrie.  Onward and upward!

To Valhalla!!!!

Oregon: Night in Merrill

Hours behind the wheel, rolling down the road, and we managed to find our way to the very little (no, really, it's quite small) town of Merrill, Oregon, home to only about 800 people. The entire town could be walked pretty easily as the main road itself is only about a half mile long, so you blink and you'd miss it. We stopped to get gas, then found our way to the Polar Bear snack shack parking lot to sort out our selves and our belongings, tend to our squeaks, and inevitably end up spending the night. We initially only planned to stop briefly and then keep heading on towards Eugene, but after surveying our surroundings we realized we'd coincidentally stumbled into a parking lot where they 100% allowed overnight parking! There's no easy guarantee that we'd be able to find an inconspicuous place to pull over and sleep after driving another 3-4 hour stretch where we'd be allowed to stay, so we figured we'd take the synchronicity and roll with it. It worked out well, as Antho realized that he was already having issues with his credit cards due to the transactions being out-of-Nevada, so he was able to get that sorted while waiting for an order of what ended up being very tasty fried gizzards from the above shack.  

Once we were fed, our finances sorted out, and our rodents secured and safely locked away from the hungry birds swirling above, we decided to take a walk through town to see if we could grab a drink. 

We managed to find our way to the local cafe/bar/restaurant, which was a fun joint with a lively and friendly crowd! The bartender was awesome, and she blew Antho's mind when she offered him the option to choose the vodka used in his White Russian. We went with dealer's choice, which ended up being very good! One of the local barflies approached and asked my permission to touch Antho's dreads, which we both found amusing. Don't get me wrong here- we absolutely and 100% appreciate that she asked before getting handsy! It's just not an everyday occurrence that someone comes up to us and asks to touch Antho's hair. After our first drink, the jukebox started pumping and things started to pep up a bit. We were pretty tired and didn't want to get swept into any rowdiness, so we took an Irish exit and returned to the vehicles to conk out for the night. I definitely couldn't resist trying my luck on the archaic coin-machine in the bathroom! I got "Pandora's Box", which I'm pretty sure is really just a condom.