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Van Build
Sabbatical Year
Oregon Coast
The Oregon Coast is up next for our favorite mild buzzed rambling review.
Main Campaign: Oregon Coast
5/7-11/2023
Oregon wanted to woo us. At least, that is what I am telling myself. Bend, rainforests (?!), and then the coast. Oregon, are you even real?! That coast though. Maibock comes to mind and it makes me smile. Rich, malty, a hint of sweetness, some earthy undertones.
Mileage that could easily be completed in a day, my brother has done it traveling back to the Twin Cities on numerous occasions. It took us almost a week. We skipped no more than 50 miles each day. We stopped to walk along small town main streets, look at lighthouses, hike trails solely based on the name. The bike packers we passed could’ve easily lapped us had it been an oval.
The coast sang to us like a true Maibock. The locals were rich with stories, friendly to a fault. The food and drink, flavorful and savory. We tried so many chowders. The uncrowded beaches, every one of them Leinie-friendly were oh-so-sweet after the crowded, no-dogs-allowed SoCal beaches. Hikes through dense forests with names like Hobbit Trail had us searching for the Shire.
A coast that hits all my personal faves: beer, ice cream, classics. I gleefully drank at a long-term goal brewery. Ate my weight in cheese and ice cream at Tillamook. Shouted “Heeey you guys!” on Canon Beach and in Astoria. Again, I ask. Oregon, are you even real?!
A Beer Enthusiast's Roadmap To America
Ass Over Teakettle
The misadventure of Sandra, bikes, and asphalt.
If you’ve never had the pleasure of meeting me, or maybe you have and this is new information. Allow me to share a few tidbits about myself.
First, my parents almost named me Grace. Depending on your outlook, that was either very smart on their part, or very unfortunate for myself.
Second, I spent a good chunk of my childhood on a bike. Our family had an annual biking vacation. While the bikes I rode would make Jake shudder (most came from walmart), I was able to do the normal kid tricks. Look ma, no hands!
Now that we have those facts out of the way, let’s begin.
Fresh outta college, obstacle races were the thing to do. Tough mudder, zombie 5k, I even once ran through a corn maze. So when the Urban Assault Challenge came to the Twin Cities, naturally I signed up. The gist of the this challenge was a duo would bike ride 20-some miles through the metropolitan area and periodically stop to complete challenges. Big wheel relay, egg & spoon while biking, that sort of thing. As all obstacle races, at the end you were rewarded with beer.
Now, I’m pretty sure whether we’ve met or not, you know I would do a lot for a beer.
Not even two miles into this challenge, my front tire hit a good ol’ minnesota pothole. You know the kind, could eat a civic and not even suffer indigestion. So my tire hits the pothole, on a downhill of all times and I get bucked right over my handlebars. I did an admirable impression of stone skipping on water, but with my arm and chest on the asphalt. Ten out of ten would not recommend.
I didn’t touch a bike for almost 10 years after that. Jake convinced me after we started dating to rent a city bike in order to brewery hop in Phoenix. I didn’t die as I had expected and have hesitantly biked when beer has been on the line a few times since.
Skip to present and we were sitting in a quirky pink coffee shop in the middle of Idaho when I randomly asked Jake if he had an interest in bikepacking the Mesabi Trail later that summer in Minnesota. While he didn’t fall out of his chair, he did ask me to repeat what I had said, twice.
Why, you ask? I liked the idea of doing as much of the Minnesota portion of the North Country Trail as I could milk outta our time while we were in the area. This year I have also been pushing my comfort zone, doing more technical peak bagging (still don’t enjoy them) and thought a nice flat, paved trail would be Sandra-friendly.
Jake was giddy with excitement. We did the greenbelt in Boise with me on his very nice (read: expensive) mountain bike in order to “get used to a real bike” in preparation for the future trip. I was gaining confidence and was getting rather excited for the experience.
Halfway through our stay in Bend, I suggested we bike the river trail through town to brewery-hop per usual. Again, Jake had me on the nice bike while he handled Leinie on the beach cruiser. We had just enjoyed our first beer stop at the turn around point and were en route to a happy hour at the next brewery. We were cruising down the one downhill portion of the entire trail and I felt my hat start to fly off my head.
So I tapped the break. Yes, the rear tire break, I did grow up biking. Regardless, the next thing I know is I am flying ass over tea kettle and felt my face bounce off the asphalt.
Yes, again! And there wasn’t even a crack in the path to explain how I managed to do it. Jake and Leinie come running back. I am bleeding from both hands, a wrist and face. My faithful patagonia sweater saved my arm skin. Both legs felt sucker punched. I looked absolutely delightful as tears and snot mixed with the gash on my face. Stay back fellas, I’m taken.
I hobbled to a public restroom to wash as much blood away as I could and wrapped the worst cut on my right hand in toilet paper in an attempt to staunch the bleeding. Jake and Leinie led my hobbling ass to a local tavern where I soothed my aches with three Hamms tall boys. Yes, three, I think I earned it.
The van was too far away to walk, so I gathered what was left of my shaking nerves and mounted the very mean bike again (the cruiser's seat was too high for me, and we had no tools to fix it) and rode to another brewery. I drank another two beers while Jake finished the last few miles to bring the van to me.
And just to ensure my pride was completely shattered, fate decided that I should slip trying to get out of the van and I fell and twisted my bad ankle to boot not even two hours later. Jake is currently researching helmets while I nurse road rash, a swollen ankle and a heavily bruised ego.
Short Essays From The Road
Suck It Up
Just like that, our adventurers are three months deep. What lows have they had to overcome and what highs have they enjoyed?
Month Three: Suck It Up
6/5/2023
Oregon - Washington - Montana - Wyoming - Utah
And just like that we are three months deep into our adventure. This month we slowed down and took our time exploring the PNW. In the midst of the forested woods, we learned a new theme: Suck it up. The scenery helped and so did the beer.
Bend. Oh, glorious Bend, our beloved brown ale. We spent over a week parked at a trailhead just outside town. We hit the trails in the morning and then explored town in the afternoon. And we drank beer. How could we not when the town has one of the highest breweries per capita in the nation. Sedona who?
Halfway through our stay, our monthly theme would catch me as I went ass over teakettle on Jake’s mountain bike and did an admiral impression of a rock skipping water except it was my face and the asphalt. And to ensure my ego wasn’t too intact after that, I slipped getting out of the van and tweaked the hell outta my bad ankle. Time to suck it up, buttercup.
I watched Jake hit the trails in the following mornings while I took vitamins (read: nsaids) and limped my bleeding and bruised self around camp until Jake returned and we explored town more. The ample opportunities for beer on tap helped with the pain and the fomo (Mom, that stands for “fear of missing out”).
We had a long, drawn-out farewell with our new favorite city. We slept in, made our way to a brewery and parked ourselves for several hours. Jake demolished the best smashburger of all time, made from the food truck outside. Finally, we sucked it up and returned to the road. We started this trip with the intention to explore after all.
Breweries visited: Goodlife, 10Barrel, Bend Brewing, Deschuetes
We headed west in the hopes of exploring Crater Lake only to find out that we should have researched ahead of time. It was currently under six feet of snow with a single driveable viewpoint of the lake. It was freezing cold at that elevation, the heavy traffic made the snow icy slick, and my swollen foot only fit in my moccasin still. Sucked it up and was awarded an amazing view of the lake. We will need to visit again in better weather and fitness.
Temp stand-in until a nice picture is downloaded from the fancy camera…
Continuing west, we came upon the Oregon Coast. We had no expectations for the area and were completely blown away. What is normally a six hour drive from point-to-point, we spread over five days. Just like a maibock, this area was for slow, sippin’ enjoyment. We ate and drank our way from Coos Bay in the south to Astoria in the north, with breaks for us to disc golf and Jake to bike. Still nursing a heavily bruised, swollen ankle and foot I completed both recent seasons of Love is Blind and Bridgerton within those five days as I had run out of available books on my kindle. We suck it up in our own ways, ok?
Obligatory hiking pic of Oregon coast
Rogue International HQ
Tillamook Creamery to eat our weight in dairy
Heeeey you guuuuys! Goonies beach.
Breweries visited: 7 Devils, Rogue Bayfront & International HQ, Pelican, Astoria, Buoy Brewing…also, Tillamook Creamery (disclosure: not a brewery, but just as awesome)
Oregon had been such a delight, from wooded, arid desert to moss-covered rainforests, dune-filled beaches, picturesque bays and harbors. In the midwest every town has a bar and a church, in Oregon it's a dispensary and two breweries. I kid you not. The state welcomes van-dwelling vagabonds with a hug and free sample of beer. We discovered that casinos will let you park for free and give you free slot play to boot. Both mornings we awoke hungover were directly following a casino evening, hmm. We had to remind ourselves that we needed to keep exploring, our adventure wasn’t over yet. So onward to Washington we went.
We weren’t ready to ditch the PNW coast yet and attempted to follow the Washington portion north. That ended with a few hours following a U-shaped road on a peninsula looking at sloughs (the fancy word for swamps) only to end up on the main highway north towards Olympic National Park.
Found Sasquatch
Olympic was … unlike any other national park we had visited. First, it’s huge. Something like a million acres? Second, there’s no gate where you show your pass, at least where we drove. It had us questioning if we were in the park or outside the park. Which is important with a trail doggo since the NPS doesn’t allow them many places in parks. A rant for another day. Within the park, there were private homes which was weird. There were also some campgrounds managed by the NPS and others by the state which required a separate pass. Sucking it up was rather frustrating.
Washington thus far had the unfortunate luck of following glorious Oregon. It couldn’t win. The flying ant-bugs were horrible. It was sweltering hot, apparently unseasonably sunny and warm for this time of year. Campgrounds were small with limited sites that filled quickly. And we had the unwelcome return of the cockamouse. It felt like the roulette game of a wild-fermented beer and Lady Luck was just not on our side. If it wasn’t for an obligation in Tacoma we would’ve left then and there.
Jake, armed with a plastic bag and soup ladle, ready to wage war on the cockamouse
With a work “observation” in Tacoma, we hesitantly entered the Puget Sound area. From the north end of Tacoma with the view of the sound, it had us regretting our grumbling about the state and starting to get the feels again. But the town is waging war on the houseless and nowhere in town allows overnight parking, casinos and rest stops included. The travel center had hired private security to patrol and only allowed CDL drivers to spend the night. In a desperate race against time we lucked out with a county campground two towns over with super chill campground hosts.
A hurried morning and having to be “on” for five hours left me dehydrated, starving, and mentally exhausted. Beer and pizza later, we explored the weird McMenamis Elks Temple and hit up Dorky’s arcade bar in Tacoma. The city can be fun but it felt like downtown LA with more chaos.
Jake enjoying the McMenamis Elks Temple
The next morning we were en route to Seattle. I have always loved visiting this city prior and was excited to show Jake what I loved here, but it was never with a car or needing to drive. That challenge aside, we ate and drank our way through Pike Place Market, Pioneer Square and back. We met Barista Brandon who gave us free espressos and great recommendations for the next time we visit.
Eating our weight in seafood.
Seattle was a quick visit since parking was costing us as much as gas. So we found ourselves in traffic heading north. During a grocery and laundry stop we debated just heading straight east and scratching our plans to head north to Bellingham. Washington was still not sitting right with us. We decided to suck it up and give it one more chance, but held zero expectation.
Well, what would ya know? Even wild-fermented beers can turn out shockingly good. Bellingham was the best kept secret of the trip. A randomly stumbled upon town in a trail app that turned into a three day stay because we couldn’t pull ourselves away. It was Fort Collins without the Patagonia cult (though high 70’s isn’t conducive to the better sweater). It had the outdoor feel of Bend, but had an ocean to boot and better road infrastructure. Ok B-ham, ok.
The Portal, container park in Bellingham
So sucking it up wrought unforeseen reward. Noted.
We headed east and hit up the kitchy town of Leavenworth. For a town fashioned from Bavarian culture, spaetzle was surprisingly hard to find. I don’t know who out there needs to hear this: There is more to German food than bratwurst and pretzels! You’re welcome.
Touristy, no?
I attempted to suck it up, but spaetzle and schnintzle have a special place in my heart/gut, so I was rather pouty about it. The universe or the natural chaos that is wild fermentation must have heard me because I happened upon a few morels while peak bagging with Leinie. As anyone in our situation would, Jake and I enjoyed scramby eggs topped with … we’ll go with charred morels.
We hit Spokane for town chores and cheap movie theater tickets for Dungeons and Dragons. I cried from laughing so hard. Then before we knew it, we were waving goodbye to Washington.
Breweries visited: E9, Pike Place, Khulsan, Menace, Gruff, Boundary Bay, Icicle
Looking at the calendar, we realized that we had planned visits with friends quickly approaching…several states away. Oops. We had some dedicated driving days in our future. Time to suck it up, again.
Driving days were not this much fun
We did a hop and skip through the chimney of Idaho to reach Montana. We wanted to desperately enjoy Montana but limited time meant carefully picking spots to stop. Glacier was still under snow and constant on/off rain prevented biking and hiking. Our first pick, Missoula held the nicest laundry facility of our trip thus far. But no brewery patio in town would allow dogs so we were quickly back on the road.
Just past Butte, we parked ourselves in dispersed land on the continental divide. It happened to also be the Friday of Memorial Day weekend so naturally it was crowded as hell, with atv/side-by-side/dirt bike riding, gun totin’ free ‘Muricans. True story, we heard music blasting all night and Jake woke to someone shooting guns at 7am. Something about loud music and fear of a stray bullet passing through your vehicle isn’t conducive to sound sleep, I guess. We woke up feeling more tired than when we went to bed.
We packed up and went across the highway to the non-motorized portion of public land and placed some pawprints on the CDT. It’s a triple crown trail when paired with the PCT and AT. While we don’t plan on thru hiking these bad boys, we have hiked portions of two now. AT, looking at you.
Continental Divide Trail
We stopped in Bozeman for a break from the road miles where we spent a couple of glorious hours at the hot springs. One guy in our pool asked if we were the couple he met the previous night where he worked. The subliminal messaging must’ve worked because we ended up at his brewery a couple hours later by complete accident. Weird. Bozeman felt bougie, the California influx was palpable. A stark contrast to the previous night.
Montana’s landscape is glorious, but rain prevented us from hitting the trails. The time crunch left us with little time to stop anyway. We ended up clocking miles while discussing why we were left confused by Montana. It was hard to put a finger on it. I wanted to love it, the wild-ness of the landscape called to us but the settled population left me confused. You’re telling me that gun-totin’ free ‘Muricans are so afraid of dog hair in their food that they ban dogs from even being on an outdoor patio? It tasted like wort, Montana was having an identity crisis and needed to figure out what it wanted to be when it grew up.
Making good mileage left us with a few days to explore the parks in Wyoming and we scored the best dispersed (free) camping site yet on this trip.
10 outa 10 recommend for reading, working, and napping
Yellowstone was first and we spent two days exploring this crazy fenceless zoo filled with ominous holes.
Yellowstone is the epitome of the Floor is Lava game
Grand Teton was next up to bat and left me googling future backcountry trips. I am actively choosing to ignore the type 3 fun we had in Maroon Bells and telling myself it’s the type 2 fun of Whitney.
Is this even real?!
We took a break to stretch the legs in Jackson Hole before continuing on. And ohmigosh, the rain. So much rain. Since hitting trails was out of the question, we did some of our longest driving days yet. In one day we bounced from Wyoming to Idaho to Utah back to Wyoming ping ponged back to Utah before returning to Wyoming. Dizzy? So was I.
More intermittent rain left us with town days and plenty of naps. With so many days in a row of nothing but driving and listening to rain, it was getting very hard to suck it up. Jake was ready to throw in the towel and head straight to a couch and shower in Minnesota, but we persevered and were rewarded. We finally got some sunshine the last two days of our third month where we could hike around the border of Utah and Colorado looking at dinosaur bones. Hold onto your butts, month four is just starting.
More Vanlife Posts
Gettin’ Our Asses Outa Here
Two months in and our heroes have taken the road less choiced by the horns. Where have they been, what have they seen?
Month Two: Gettin’ Our Asses Outa Here
5/5/2023
Arizona - Utah - Idaho - Oregon
Month Two Done! Ohmigosh! Where’s Charlie Berens when you need him? Don’t mind me and my bowtonk midwest humor….Wow that spiraled. This month was all about gettin’ our butts outa the comfort zone and on the road.
Sedona. The amber ale, obv. The cool, popular, super attractive kid in class that also is nice to everyone. We crushed so hard on Sedona. A whole two breweries (Oak Creek & Sedona Beer Co.), LA-esque crowds & traffic, the lack of showers. Despite that, we stayed a glorious four days. Short rest to regain 2d10 hit die.
Devil’s Bridge
On this month’s vanlife reality topic: ‘gram pics.
Ever wonder about those epic ‘gram pics that make you crave adventuring and traveling. Something like the one above? Here’s the reality. We waited over an hour and half for our turn to take said super epic pic.
Over an hour and a half!
Despite our major crushin’ we left after hearing rumors of an extra busy weekend crowd approaching and in desperate need of showers. Full disclosure, it was mostly due to the crowds. Embrace the stench, my friends.
Flagstaff held showers (for all of us, Leinie included), laundry, and a lounge at a travel center.
Leinie does not and never will enjoy water
Squeaky clean and smellin’ fresh, we made our way to the Grand Canyon just in time for Easter brunch. We meandered along the rim trail, but snow pack and unfriendly doggo rules (but mostly snow pack) kept us from exploring below the rim.
Easter brunch in the making
We met another cool vehicle-dweller, Apocalypse Jane Doe. She dwells outa a badass Lexus suv. You’ll need to forgive me, but expensive car breeds are not my forte. Jake’s eyes were super big if that says anything. His commentary, “That vehicle is sweet.” We must’ve looked hungry, because she gave us a can of onchilada sauce. Foresty Forest anyone??
Keep ‘er moving.
A few suggestions from LA coworkers (thanks guys!), we found ourselves in Page, AZ. Unfortunately the super viral Antelope Canyon was not within our financial means (~$100/person before fees and taxes!). We did see some pretty cool things, hiked along the rimview trail and drank some beers at the Grand Canyon Brewing & Distillery.
Horseshoe Bend
Then we got our butts outta Arizona and into Utah.
Utah. A session IPA if I ever met one. Yes, you sure are pretty. But looks can be deceiving, because on closer look your beer policy made my liver cry. 5% lager, 5% IPA, 5% porter, 5% stouts, 5%, 5%, 5%. Like decaf coffee, or a hooker who only cuddles, what is the point?
Anywho, we didn’t just zip on through. Why? Zion.
Is this even real life?!
The narrows were closed, our permit for Angel’s Landing didn’t make the lottery. We ended up staying six days parked on sweet, sweet, free BLM land. Exploring trails, lounging away, listening to river music, drinking 5% beer and we met Utah Rick and Hazel. A nice long rest to regain precious spell slots.
Then we moved our butts to Bryce Canyon, the land of Hoodoos. Compact and surprisingly lacking crowds. Digestible.
Hoodoo’s galore!
But we woke up to our butter frozen. We were chasing spring north. Butter melts, head north. Butter freezes, head south. Time to get our asses outta here, to lower elevation, warmer temps or both. But where?
Our archnemesis, indecision. It was crippling, my friends.
Our temporary solution while we thought it through was Cedar City, UT. Warmer, plenty of close-to-town BLM land, trails, disc golf and a brewery! Utah, stop playin’. I could’ve lived at Policy Kings Brewery. Want something more than 5%, sure thing, we’ll crack a can (loophole!), Thurs Drag Trivia, yes please!.
Hands down, most beautiful disc golf course I’ve ever seen.
Drinking real beer again gave us perspective and the decision was made. Get your ass outta here.
Hello Idaho!
If God took a piece of the midwest and planted it squarely in the west (real west), it would be Idaho. Straight up an all american lager, drinkable and familiar but almost too comfortable. It’s as if we had never left the midwest.
First pitstop was Twin Falls, or as Jake dubbed it,“the Bigger Anoka”. He couldn’t have been more accurate. We saw some waterfalls and drank some beer. Frolfin left us in mourning for my main man Trevor, hopefully he is chasing foliage in a better place. Then we lost Cole and gained free agent Peyton. I’m not a driver gal, but Trevor left me needing to diversify.
Shoshone Falls
Then we got our butts to Boise. Oh Boise, you do not like the van-dwellers. It was hard to enjoy your attributes when you want us to not stay there. We gave it the ol’ college try. We tried Lost Grove Brewing Co. and did some disc golfing. We discovered your beautiful, flooded river green belt. Leinie and Jake enjoyed real grass since…oh, god how long has it been?? And the best IPA to grace this planet. A moment of silence for the queen of IPAs, please.
Real grass!!
We didn’t set off in the Yellow Submarine for a re-imagined midwest though. So we got our butts moving.
Into the promised land, Oregon.
Deep breath in, deep breath out. So many, oh so many people have herald the wonders and magic of Oregon. More specifically, Bend. We have tried, likely in vain, to hold our hopes and expectations in check. Maybe it was magic, maybe it was a long drive, maybe it was nothing at all. But crossing that border and entering Oregon had both Jake and I taking a big sigh.
The scenery changed, the feeling changed. We spent two nights en route to Bend and then held our breath as we entered the city that so. many. praised. We braced ourselves for disappointed, failed expectations. We stopped at the brewery closest to the camping site we picked. If first impressions matter, Bend is king.
View from our Bend basecamp
Within 48 hours, we had an amazing campsite, a gym membership for regular showers (bye stench), and a brand new city crush (sorry Sedona). It fits perfectly that Bend is where our month closes out, cuz we certainly didn’t get our butts outa Bend for a bit.
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