CLASS OF 1998

P-E-N-D-L-E-T-O-N. P-E-N-D-L-E-T-O-N. P-E-N-D-L-E-T-O-N. PENDLETON!!!

Long live PHS Class of 98! This weekend was our 10 year reunion and it was fantastic. It began with the traditional meeting at the Let'er Buck Room accompanied by the Pendleton Whiskey shot which is a long standing local custom.

The class of 98 then made the trek across the Albertson's parking lot to the new fangled karaoke bar in town, aptly named The Hut. Well, most of the class anyway. We lost one member of the class of 98 when he passed out in the grandstands at the Round-Up Grounds.

Evening one was capped off with an all too appropriate tromp down the stairs into Crabby's for a few rounds and a big debate about just who would actually make the better wing man ( Top Gun jokes ensued). Daren and I then proceeded to swing through the mini-mart across the street from our hotel and pick up the last three hot dogs in the warmer. Don't worry they were on the house!

Day two opened with a late and lovely breakfast at Great Pacific where they still make the best baked ham and cheese croissants in the country. Then it was off to the park for a kid friendly BBQ. There were a striking number of 10 month old babies. It seems I've missed out on the baby rush...maybe we'll catch it the next time around. It was here that we also discussed our 20 year reunion and it was suggested by one tired mother of three that perhaps within 10 more years we will all be wizards and our next reunion can be one giant magic competition.

Nap time for the kids and all of the adults headed back out for another night on the town in Pendleton. ( If you've ever been to Pendleton you can appreciate how hilarious that statement is) Dinner at the fancy new steakhouse, Hamley's where plenty of the local Walla Walla wine was imbibed.

Then it was back to Crabby's to cap off the weekend, but only because The Rainbow is closed for the week.

The PHS class of 1998 reunion was topped of in perfect Pendleton style. John B told us stories about how he was arrested in Mexico and had to fight a local cop to get his passport back and how on a totally different day he was stabbed in the should with a pen in Mexico. Sarah H was asked to do the Velocoraptor and Rian streaked down Main Street in nothing but his converse. And we met Phil...class of '81.

Go Buckaroos, Go Buckaroos, Go!

Picture Story

We finally got the last remaining Honeymoon pics. This is us on the shuttle boat to our 8 hour flight.
My final goodbye to the island of Bora Bora
Daren having one last Hinano before we board.
Daren and Sarah nearing the end of an 8 hour international flight with two broken seats that wouldn't lean back.

One tired duo.

From motorbikes to streetbikes

This weekend Daren and I traded in the Harley from last weekend and decided to hit the town on good old fashion bicycles.

Daren has spent a lot of time in his life on bikes. His family used to take long family vacations on their bikes and cruise mountain passes with all of their essentials tucked away in the back packs. In fact, they would even do family training rides with weights in their back packs.

My family on the other hand has, to this day, never been on a family bike ride. In fact, many years ago when my Dad went out to buy everyone bikes I came home with a helmet. Thats right, no bike just a helmet. So needless to say, I am not much of a natural on the bike trails.

We hopped on our bikes and headed out into the wild wild world of bike friendly Portland with Daren taking the lead.

One block in and my bike is clicking. Daren has to pull us over into a parking lot where I learned that when my bike makes that sound its not in gear.

Mile one and I'm clipped by a construction a-frame that is inanimate and standing still. I fall off of the curb, take the handle bar in the thigh and launch gracefully out into the street flat on my face. Daren has to come back and check my tires to see if their bent and smile at me while trying not to laugh. At least trying not to laugh too hard.

Mile five while working to master the art of shifting gears my pedals stop turning. Again Daren has to turn around and come ask me what the matter is. We pull off of the flat and paved trail to find that my chain has fallen off. He teaches me how to put it back on and once again we are off.

Mile 7 we are back on the roads. We move over into the turn lane and find the light red. Not a car in sight so we cruise through it and over the railroad tracks. Red and blue lights start flashing and we are pulled over by a cop who threatens us with a $240.00 illegal turn ticket each! We don't get the tickets and promise to obey all traffic laws.

Mile 8 we are riding in our own neighborhood along the Streetcar tracks. For some unknown reason I decide to follow Daren exactly as he moves in and out and over the tracks. The track grabs my tire and I am down in an instant. Skidding across the pavement, splayed out flat with my hands tearing up the asphalt as I slide. I also did this in front of many people. Daren's response to this one "That one made my heart stop. Let's head home"

Had I any pride left by that last fall it would have been seriously bruised.

"Inn run by a Hog Owner"

Saturday morning we woke up to a perfect day. We decided that this was it. This was the day we were going to ride the Harley over to the coast. So we packed up a backpack with everything we would need for the weekend, including the travel scrabble game, and headed out...almost. My grandparents were in town so we stopped by to see them and by the time we were about to hit the road it was nearing 4:00. Since it was late in the afternoon we finally conceded and decided to call a few hotels to feel them out instead of just heading over and landing where ever we may. And thank God we did! Cannon Beach was completely booked. Not a room in town! We luckily secured the last available room at the Riversuites Inn in Seaside and headed out.

The ride was perfect. Sunny and cool with the beautiful views of the NW. Once we got there we found out why all of the hotels were booked. Turns out it was Bike Fest Weekend! There were hundreds of Harley Davidson's in all types and colors everywhere. The hotels even boasted welcome messages like "Inn run by a Hog Owner" .It was so fun to stumble upon this wild event and get to be a part of it. Daren and I even almost bought patches for our leather jackets to honor our first Bike Fest.

What a fantastic random weekend.

A New Direction

Within the past 36 hours I have decided to take my fitness in a new direction. As far as the classic athletic talents go I have basically been nothing but a runner my whole life. I have enjoyed the occasional kick boxing video with Billy Blanks, a few rounds of Buns of Steel, and of course a day or two spent with Darren's Dance Grooves. All of this has been accompanied by a faithful yoga practice over the last several years as well. But now, now I head in a new direction all together.

I am officially registered for the 18th Annual Lincoln City Triathlon Sprint! That means by Sept 7th I need to be able to swim 1/2 a mile, bike 10 miles, and run 3.1 miles in consecutive order. Again, I have never been more than a runner, don't own a bike and so now its training time.

TRAINING DAY ONE: Swimming
Sure I can swim. I mean I can keep myself from drowning in a pool and have a great time splashing around in rivers and lakes. But all of that aquatic activity involves resting....a lot.

On to the pool at my local gym for my first day ever of swimming training. I got to the pool and it was full. Luckily I correctly assumed that I could sit and wait for a lane to open up, of course I first tried to wait while sitting on the stairs of the pool but that only made me cold so I ended up on the edge of the hot tub with my blue borrowed goggles in hand. I would even fiddle with them some and be sure they were set out next to me in clear view of passers by so that they would know that Yes I actually was waiting for a lane.

It may have been hard for the strong and committed swimmers there to know that I was serious about joining in on the lap swim and for good reason. While all of the other swimmers were decked out in their mens speedo suits and the women in their black or navy racer back one piece speedo suits I was in my most athletic looking red and white polka dot bikini.

With my hair pulled up into a bun on the top of my head one man shouted "Over here" and it was my turn. I gingerly stepped into the pool, since now my feet are that comfortable yet scalding hot temperature from the hot tub. I get to my lane and wanted so badly to just throw on my goggles and take off. But of course they didn't fit and the first three times I tried to start swimming with my head underwater they immediately filled up with water and back to the starting wall it was.

At last, the goggles are on and adjusted, my feet and body have settled in and are comfortable with the water temp and I'm off like sea cucumber. I was the slowest swimmer in the pool hands down. But I did it! I swam for a total of 20 minutes with 5 minutes on then a 45 sec break for four reps. By race time I need to at least double my distance in close to the same amount of time.

I looked completely ridiculous and was as exhausted as if I had run 8 hot miles. Still, I felt proud of my new accomplishment and grateful that at least I got to be in the lane next to the old guy with the snorkel.

A Blended Family

Living with us in our 900 sq foot loft are our 'boys'. The Benson Brood, I like to call us. Boomer and Burl, also known as Dumb and Dumber of the dog world. I have had The Big Boom for 5 years this fall and Daren and Mr. Burl Benson have been best friends for just about 4 years.

So yes, we have a blended family and we are still shaking out some of those issues. We still usually refer to the dogs as your dog and my dog and have a consistent debate about which dog actually is actually more athletic or better behaved. Still, we love each other and have grown to love each others dogs...just maybe not quite as much as we still love our own dog. Which is what made last nights event so hilariously surprising.


I walk the dogs in the morning and the brave Daren walks the dogs at night. Last night its somewhere between 10:30 and 11:00 when he takes them out. They are never very excited about this late night walk and both sulk their way out of the door feeling frustrated that they have just been woken up. I went about my evening business of making the coffee and getting ready for bed and was in the bedroom when I heard Daren and the leashes making noise inside our front door. We made a few jokes, finished with our nightly routines, shut off the lights and laid down in our green sheeted bed. There was even a few jokes exchanged and then we both fell silent and began to drift off towards another good nights sleep.

It was 25 minutes since Daren came home with the dogs and he was already asleep. I was swaying between deep relaxation and sleep when I heard the neighbors dog barking again. Daren awoke enough to shush our own dogs and fell hard back to sleep. I listened for the dog again. Nothing. Then I began to get the feeling that something was missing. I got up and checked all of the dogs usual sleeping places with Boomer following me around the house right on my heals as usual. Finally I turned on a light...and no Burl. "Daren where's Burl?" But he was sound asleep and offered no response. I looked in the bathroom, under the bed, and even in the laundry room area but did not find Burl.

Finally I opened the front door, being sure to hide behind it since I was in the pajamas, and low and behold there is Burl! Ears down flat against his head wondering if he really has to continue to sit and stay out here much longer. I let him in and he couldn't have been more excited! Running around drinking water and bringing his toys to me. I laughed out loud, woke up Daren and shouted victoriously "You locked Burl outside!"

So it seems the line between being a blended family and just being The Benson's is blurring. If I had been asked to put money on who it would have been that Daren locked outside I would have staked my entire wallet on it being The Big Boom.

Now that is was Burl, Boomer has asked to go to the vet and change his last name.