I love Oregon! From its people to its unexpected adventures, every time I visit the state, I fall more and more in love. Recently – after hopping on a direct flight from Calgary – I landed in Portland, grabbed a rental and hit the road; ready to explore Eastern Oregon.
As a Pendleton blanket fanatic, I always wondered where they were woven… Turns out it’s in Pendleton, Oregon!
The Woollen Mills has been producing the iconic textiles for over 100 years, and offers not only a factory store with heavily discounted blankets… But also a free behind the scenes tour of the fascinating process they use to create them.
With my trunk full of blankets it was time to make my way to my hotel, the newly opened Motolodge, a boutique hotel giving chic hipster vibes with a barrel sauna to relax in.
Along the way I passed a stadium and was intrigued by a boldly painted slogan: “Let ‘er Buck”… I needed to know more!
Turns out Pendleton is home to an epic rodeo called the ‘Roundup’ that shares many of the events seen at the Calgary Stampede, with the added adrenaline of bull riding taking place in an arena with extremely low rails.
Offering a more exhilarating experience, I decided this would be a rodeo I’d need to plan a trip back for.
The next morning I was on my way to the small town of La Grande, Oregon where my first stop was breakfast. And this is where I found a slice of coffee cake that will live in my dreams forever, at the Liberty Cafe.
After wolfing down the first square I ordered another as this would be the last of any civilization I’d see for days as I was on my way to spend 3 days, 2 nights back country eco camping in the Wallowa-Whitman National Forest in Eastern Oregon with an outfitter called Go Wild American Adventures.
Now I know what you’re thinking; WHAT?!
But with the promise of gourmet meals, creatively crafted cocktails and a packing mule to do all the heavy lifting, I finally felt I was about to live out my glamorous Troop Beverly Hills fantasy.
But like many of my delusional fantasies, this too would be short lived as an hour into my uphill hike, I began to realize that The Beverly Wilshire wasn’t going to be just around the corner. Nevertheless I was ready for the adventure – and the wild Instagram stories – so I eagerly marched on!
“Beverly Hills, what a thrill” sang over and over in my head as hour 4 approached, the trees parted way and like an oasis in the dessert, our fully set-up camp appeared.
Our leader, Camp Daddy 1 as I lovingly referred to him as, had broken from the pack a few hours early and sprinted to camp, completing the set up and prepared a delicious appetizer to greet us with. Using locally foraged ingredients from his garden, he flexed his skills by not only creating a perfect bite, but he also shook up a custom cocktail using grapes that he had also grown.
This was not room service… This was better!
That night we enjoyed an amazing dinner cooked over the roaring campfire and enjoyed endless laughs with the other ‘Wilderness Girls’ who had joined our troupe.
As night fell and the temperature dropped, it was time for bed and although I was given a thorough packing list in advance to help me keep warm, I chose fashion over function and my frosty body paid for it as I dozed off to sleep.
The next morning was drab and dreary and stayed that way throughout the day but Camp Daddy 2 had a plan to distract us from the rain with fun!
Kayaking, Mushroom Foraging, Axe Throwing and Fly Fishing; our day was filled with new and exciting activities which allowed me to earn my patches.
The day was full and after another night of feasting on five-star food and drink it was once again time for bed.
But this time I was prepared with a plan to stay warm!
As Camp Daddy 1 and 2 headed off to their tents, I headed to mine for supplies. With a headlamp and a swimming towel in tow I returned to the recently extinguished fire.
Laying my towel on the ground, I began to roll the large rocks that made up the fire surround out of their circular formation and onto the towel. Then like the Grinch Who Stole Christmas, I Santa sacked them over my shoulder and scuttled back to my tent.
Turns out that growing up with an older brother who forced me to watch endless hours of MacGyver wasn’t a bad thing. These rocks were hot and after cuddling them like a mother cat cuddles her kitten babies, I drifted off into a toasty slumber.
The next day as I woke up happy and spry, I leisurely feasted on yet another incredible breakfast and sipped on an endless supply of coffee as Camp Daddies 1 & 2 feverishly tore down the camp and packed it up for the mules to transport.
And with that we were on a 3.5 hour blissful downhill hike back to civilization and another slice of coffee cake from Liberty.
My time in Oregon was coming to an end, but the state had one more surprise for me – this time in Hood River for an opulent dinner at Hiyu Farms Winery with the Winemaker.
Now I could go on and on about the goats, the soil, tannins and even the grapes but I wouldn’t be doing the experiential evening justice.
The night was magical and unexplainable. As the records player played, the conversation flowed: it was one of those nights you never forget and a memory I will carry with me!
Oregon is truly a place full of imagination and adventure, and Eastern Oregon – for me – was a place of wonder, surprise and a lot of heart; a place I can’t wait to discover more of.
Mr. Fab
