Central Oregon rewind

Looking west toward the Cascades from Pilot Butte / City of Bend photo

I would be hard pressed to say exactly when was the last time I was in Central Oregon. I'm guessing it was something like a decade or more. But, finally, Lori and I had a reason to cross the mountains on Saturday: an invitation to stay with friends at their new townhouse. We drove through off-and-on rain the whole way and we even got a few snow showers as we passed Timberline Lodge.

So it was appropriate, I suppose, that we encountered overcast skies as we approached Bend, a former mill town that's become familiar to readers of Sunset and The New York Times as an upscale community that's home to an inordinate number of doctors, lawyers, skiers and others who are into winter sports. I say appropriate because the slate gray skies that obscured the normally majestic view of the Three Sisters and Broken Top was a metaphor for the barely recognizable town where we made our home for two years in the late Seventies.

We were in our mid-20s then, still a couple years away from becoming parents, and we mostly hung out with other reporters who worked with me at The Bulletin, as small daily newspaper known as a great training ground for ambitious young journalists.

Drake Park / Jennifer Clark photo

Back then, Bend had maybe 16,000 residents and the local mill was still the largest employer in town. We learned to cross country ski and ice skate on an actual frozen pond; climbed the South Sister and nearby Black Butte; and thoroughly enjoyed the crisp, clean high desert air and panoramic views of the Cascade Mountains. Downtown, such as it was, offered a mishmash of forgettable storefronts, mediocre restaurants and very little night life.

And now?

Well, as surprised as we were to see the growth in Madras and Redmond, two no-longer-so-small towns north of Bend, we were blown away by the scale of change in the former timber town. The big-box retailers have moved in with a vengeance on U.S. 97 at the north end of town. Drake Park is still a jewel in the historic city center, offering a central gathering place alongside the Deschutes River.

But downtown looks as though someone picked up the old shopping district, turned it upside down and shook everything out. Now, Wall and Bond streets offer a collection of boutique shops, sushi bars and trendy restaurants, a refurbished theatre and the obligatory Starbucks. In place of antiquated equipment and shabby housing south of town, the Old Mill District now offers a tourist-oriented shopping experience similar to what you'd find at any regional shopping mall -- i.e., lots of national retailers and a multiplex theater.

Three Sisters at sunset / Robert Gustafson photo

Nearby, across a footbridge, the Les Schwab Amphitheater now offers some great bands, typically before or after they've played a show in Portland or Seattle. Recent acts: Death Cab For Cutie, The Decemberists, Iron and Wine, Alison Krauss & Union Station.

Nothing, though, prepared us for the complete transformation of the west side. A cluster of upscale subdivisions extending away from town offers a mind-boggling array of townhouses, massive single-family homes, even a gated subdivision for those inclined to buy an extra layer of privacy. Summit High School lies in the midst of this affluence, with state-of-the-art buildings and athletic facilities and, no doubt, a student body demographic resembling that of Lakeridge, Lincoln or Jesuit high schools here in the metro area.

With so many for-sale signs on so many properties and so many structures under construction, it's hard  in some cases to tell what's still being built versus what's been abandoned. But it's very easy to see how the Bend housing market overheated and then crashed big-time in recent years.

The city now has a little over 80,000 residents. The Bulletin has a fancy new home on S.W. Chandler Avenue, which I presume is named after its legendary editor-publisher Robert W. Chandler -- the gruff old guy who hired me way back when and left a towering journalistic and philanthropic legacy when he died in 1996.

If  Thomas Wolfe were born here, he'd certainly have every reason to say, "You can't go home again."

Even though I lived here a scant two years, the Bend of old and the Bend of today might as well exist on different planets. The change is simply breathtaking. I imagine the mountain views are as gorgeous as ever, but it'll take another trip -- with clear weather -- to confirm that.

Spring thunderstorm / Jennifer Clark photo

Short Stuff: November

Jesse Eisenberg in The Social Network

Seems the more I write on this blog, the longer the posts have become. That isn't what I intended and it certainly isn't what a blog is supposed to be. Maybe an occasional helping of "Short Stuff" will give me a little more discipline...

A riveting film: Yesterday, before the trick-or-treaters came around, Lori and I went to a Sunday matinee and watched "The Social Network." Excellent movie about the founders of Facebook. Well acted by a mostly no-name cast, superb screenplay Aaron Sorkin of "The West Wing" and an engaging story about mass marketing in the Internet age. It's about genius and greed, creativity and ego, with glimpses into two opposing but complementary cultures -- Harvard and Silicon Valley -- that epitomize privilege and power in America.

Double identity: Last month, as the plane carrying me from Cedar Falls, Iowa, to Dallas, Texas, landed, I reached into the pocket in front of me to make sure I wasn't leaving anything behind. I pulled out a boarding pass and did a double take: The guy who occupied my seat on the previous flight segement, like me, also had 10 letters in his name -- and a Spanish surname. His frequent flier number also was on the ticket. Made me think about Jose Saramago's masterful book, "The Double," in which a depressed, divorced history teacher sees his exact likeness in a rented video and decides to pursue his double. Complications ensue. How easy would it have been to create havoc for my "seatmate" had I tried to access his personal information through the frequent flier number? I didn't, of course. Made me realize I need to be sure to keep that sort of data close to the vest.

Photograph: www.imbd.com

Down time at DIA ... and thoughts of Tom Hanks

If you spend much time in airports -- or if you followed the ridiculous saga of Balloon Boy and his knucklehead parents with their flying contraption sailing through the skies of Colorado -- you probably know DIA stands for Denver International Airport.

If you watch your share of movies -- excuse me, I guess they're called "Major Motion Pictures" -- you may have seen the Tom Hanks film, "The Terminal." It's the one where he plays a hapless visitor from some Eastern European country and because of a series of complications involving a coup back home and passport issues that prevent his entering the U.S. or returning home, he literally takes up residence at a New York airport.

And, finally, if you've flown anywhere in the U.S. in the past year or two, you're familiar with this scenario: Airline overbooks flight, asks for volunteers to wait for a later flight, enticing them with offers of free airline tickets, cash or hotel stays. Grumpiness ensues.

I bring up these three threads because they all came together on Sunday as I was flying home from Iowa.

I left Cedar Rapids airport, the one nearest Iowa City, on an early morning flight and connected in Denver, where I spent the next six hours waiting for a flight to Portland that took another two hours, meaning that 14 1/2 hours* of my day -- beginning when I awoke at 5 a.m. to when I landed in Portland at 5:30 p.m. -- were spent traveling or preparing for it. (*There were two time zone changes in there as well.)

No, I hadn't scheduled a six-hour layover. I was one of two United passengers who gave up their seat on a late-morning connecting flight in exchange for a free roundtrip ticket. As a result, I had time for breakfast and lunch at DIA and read nearly an entire book. By the time I boarded the mid-afternoon flight to PDX, I was feeling a little like Viktor Navorski, the Tom Hanks character. A little frazzled and more than ready for some in-flight sleep.

While I waited, I marveled at the little universe that DIA has become. With three concourses, passenger carts, moving walkways, multiple food courts, restaurants, coffee shops, newsstands, bookstores, shoe shine stands, massage chairs, jumbo television screens and an ever-changing potpourri of passengers from all parts of the world, it's really a self-contained city. Of course, you can say that about any major airport. But as I sat (and stood and stretched and walked) hour after hour, I began to realize that "The Terminal" might not be so far-fetched. If I had wanted to, I suspect I could have hung out at DIA all day and all night and no one would ever notice.

If you're an introvert, an I am, it's very easy to retreat into your privacy. You can amuse yourself people-watching. Or you can recall small moments ... such as when I sat directly behind Tom Hanks at a parent orientation session at Vassar College, when our daughters were freshmen. Other parents obviously noticed him, too, but respected his space and, like me, didn't do much more than offer a quick handshake and commend him for his acting chops.

Four years later, I saw Hanks again when he returned to Vassar as the commencement speaker for the Class of 2005. As long and rambling as this post is, I strongly suggest taking a few minutes to read or listen to the transcript of his speech. Click here for "The Power of Four." It'll inspire you.

Frugal Portland

Once again, The New York Times is lavishing attention on Portland, this wonderful place I've called home since 1985. During that time, the city has evolved in so many quirky, funky ways that it's impossible to describe in a short blog entry.

If you're unfamiliar with Portland -- or even if you are -- let me just suggest you check out the latest splash of positive press, the sixth travel-related story in as many months in the Times.

Today's Travel section devotes most of the cover and two inside pages to "Frugal Portland" -- describing the free events, the cheap eats (hundreds of food carts, happy hours at local restaurants), the abundant entertainment and recreation (bookstores, bike rentals, skateboard parks, etc.) and the overall informal vibe that together define this place. Leah Nash's photo, above, gives you a hint.

Reporter Matt Gross spent a week here, exploring the city's neighborhoods, restaurants, cafes and museums. He writes:

Amid economic catastrophe — Oregon has the country’s second-highest unemployment rate — there was a general indifference to wealth. In its place was a dedication to the things that really matter: hearty food and drink, cultural pursuits both high and low, days in the outdoors and evenings out with friends. It’s the good life, and in Portland it still comes cheap.

Now, I don't want to minimize our economic difficulties. We've been hit hard by the collapse of the housing market and the fact that Oregon relies on the manufacture of durable goods to a greater extent than most states. The resulting job losses -- and sharply reduced state income tax revenues -- are blowing a hole in our next two-year state budget and are likely to force some combination of tax increases and program cuts to close the shortfall.

Even in good times, the urban-rural divide means far more job opportunities in the metro area than the rest of the state -- something Oregon needs to work on, for the sake of cities and towns across the state.

But back to the Travel article...

It's cool to see so many places I've patronized get mentioned in the article. Among them: Broder's (which serves a surprisingly tasty Scandinavian breakfast) and Bunk's Sandwiches (offering killer creations, such as a pork belly reuben), and ¿Por Qué No? (an excellent taqueria).

Even cooler? The map that ran with the story (click on it to enlarge) shows our neighborhood, anchored by Grant Park, as being close to all the action. It's four miles from our house to downtown Portland -- a trip I can make in 10 minutes by car or no more than 30 minutes by bus, which I ride to work most of the time, saving a lot of money on parking in the process.


We're hosting a family reunion this summer. It's a shame that more of my extended family won't be here for it. Heck, even for those who are making the trip, there won't be enough time to do more than scratch the surface.

Lucky us. We get to live here.