The Goldendale Run

My friend Scott, with whom I enjoyed about five flights a few years ago, returned to Portland from a year and a half stint in Seattle, and asked me if I wanted to get up in the air again.  His plane was in Goldendale where his cabin is, so we'd meet after work and drive out there, see his cabin, and fly back.  I moved a few things around in my schedule upon receiving his texts.  Who wouldn't?

We had a great time catching up as we drove up the Gorge.   In the year and a half since I had seen Scott, he'd moved to Seattle, gotten a divorce, met a new awesome girlfriend--his first date on Match.com.  Now, come on, man.  I've been on hundreds of online dates.  The first one?  And not only that, she drives a VW Touareg, which of course, was the car I loved so much--had two of 'em.  So Scott drives up to the airfield in Troutdale with a big smile on  his face in his girlfriend's Touareg.  After a few fond expletives, Scott let me revisit my Touareg days and offered me the driver's seat for the trip up the Gorge.  Time flew.  

The clouds were fantastic.  That's Mt Hood beyond that old barn in Goldendale.

OK, as we entered the property where Scott's cabin is, there were plenty of cows blocking the long "lane."

And then you enter the property through Scott's new almost finished wooden gate.

I am still in absolute awe at the work he did over four years time to build it, and develop the property where he lives.  He spent every weekend for years building this house basically in the middle of nowhere.  The closest Home Depot is two hours away.  When I replace a lightbulb, I need three trips to get it right.  Up on a beautiful ridge with a most awesome southwestern view of Mt. Hood, every detail of the house was just so perfect.  He learned everything he needed to know from YouTube videos.  And to think he had to bring every item up, do all the work in the freezing cold and plan and build it meticulously, I still can't believe it.

The workshop.  He built himself.

The house.  The view from the house is a perfect view of Mt. Hood.

Check out the mantel.  And the clock.

So here's the crazy thing.  Scott is building this off the charts property in Goldendale.  Two years ago, I bought my own real estate in Goldendale--a site at the White Eagle Memorial Preserve,  this beautiful spot that appealed to me as my final resting place (that's the view from my 20 x 20' site with Oregon in the distance).

 Scott's building this utopia to live   I bought a hole in the ground where I will be when I'm dead.  What's the problem here?  (Still I am happy with the concept).

The outside shower.  No detail was overlooked.  Seriously.

(Hey, I'll have my own outside shower in Goldendale someday, too.)

Then we needed to get to the plane in order to hit Mt. Adams before sunset.  Maybe I should use another word.  "View" Mt. Adams is probably a better term.  The Goldendale airfield is about 15 minutes from Scott's house.  Soon, that trip will not be necessary.  Scott's building a landing strip on his property.  Those aren't just dreams.  It's a plan I KNOW he will execute. 

Getting the Piper Comanche ready.

And off we went.  We missed the sun setting on the west side of Mt. Adams.

Bank to the left.

so we headed south to the Gorge and flew west into Troutdale.

Coming into PDX.  Probably 30 minutes after takeoff.

Back at the hangar in Troutdale.

 Home sweet home for the awesome Comanche, where it will rest until Friday.  
Good job.  

Of course we'd worked up an appetite, and I can't do a blog without food.  It wouldn't be true to the title of the blog, now, would it?

We talked about going to Tad's, but instead decided on The Country Cat since Scott wanted to try someplace he hadn't been--a superb idea if I must say myself.   We had a nice chat with chef Adam Sappington about Guy Fieri's recent visit to his restaurant, which necessitated him shutting down the restaurant for three days.  

We started with a fantastic house made soft pretzel and mustard and a couple of Bayern Pilsners. 

Then we ordered the whole hog and the fried chicken and split 'em both.

Yep. The Whole Hog.  Chop, shoulder, belly and head cheese.

Some of the best fried chicken in PDX.

And then went with the incredible dessert--the name if which is escaping me right now, but it was basically an apple pie topped with cinnamon ice cream.   Warm, flaky and delicious.

And that was that.  Who did anything better in that four hour period?

Oregon, Washington, The Gorge. And the Country Cat.