Jen kept touting this place called Dottie’s Blue Cafe as “the best breakfast” I will have on my entire trip. As a huge fan of breakfasts (roughly 90% of my daily caloric intake is breakfast these days), I had to take her up on the bet. Jen, Monica and I strolled over to Dottie’s shortly after 9am and stood on line for an hour before we were seated. The cafe reminded me a lot of that hole-in-the-wall place in Greenwich Village where the chef wears blue eye shadow. I don’t remember what it’s called. Dottie’s has like 8 or 9 tables and a counter that seats five. Very small and cramped. They serve enormous dishes at reasonable prices. I had a 3-egg omelet with bacon and cheddar. It came with a plate of home fries and two thick slices of toast. It was great.
Unfortunately, my exciting plans for the day fell through at the last minute. Jefre Cantu invited me to his place for dinner and to sit in on a Tarentel rehearsal. I was going to treat it as the climax of the trip, remain in San Francisco for one more night, and start home tomorrow. But, due to scheduling conflicts and communication breakdowns, the day did not pan out as expected. In fact, the band didn’t even practice at all, they were just working on final details for their upcoming releases.
Instead, I left San Francisco for Eugene, Oregon. I stopped first by Haight/Ashbury to check out the area before hopping on the Freeway (I-80 East) on my way to I-5 North. It looked pretty much the way I expected. The people were like cut-outs from any of the numerous counter-cultural documentations you’ve seen through the years. At least half of those I came across were burnt out.
Sitting in traffic, I rolled up next to this girl and mouthed the word “bitch” to her, but I don’t think she understood the humor.
The drive was long and arduous, but at times striking. I charted my advance toward Mt. Shasta through a series of photographs taken every 20 or 30 miles (one, two, three, four). I only stopped once during the 8-hour drive, to explore a town called Weed, California.
I’ve decided that it’s time to make this travel journal more interactive. From now on, in each state I visit, I’m going to hold contests that will give you a chance to win artifacts of Americana. For example: In Weed I purchased a shot glass that is black and states, “I’m High on Weed, California.” If you want to win the shot glass, you only have to e-mail me (evanhlevine@gmail.com) a brief note stating why you deserve to win, and your mailing address. All submissions must be received by Tuesday, August 9th.
The scenery shifted from golden hills to lush green forests to mildly barren landscapes to mountain climbs and descents. Before I knew it, the sun had set and all was dark in Oregon. As I approached Eugene, I caught sight of a fireworks display in the distance. It was the only light in a sea of blackness.
Tomorrow I hop back on I-5 up to Seattle where I’m staying with Adrienne. The money situation looks dour. No matter. I’ve dealt with worse.
car music:
Gary Higgins – Red Hash
Bright Eyes – Fevers and Mirrors
Flaming Lips – The Soft Bulletin
The Besnard Lakes – Volume 1
Calexico – The Black Light
The Melvins – Houdini
Codeine – Frigid Stars
The Decemberists – Castaways and Cutouts
Elliott Smith – From a Basement on the Hill
Killaholics – More Wars, More Whores
