It wasn’t the legendary ice road highway in Alaska, or the persistent deluge of the Oregon Coast. It wasn’t the dengue fever or the dog attack in Peru. In the end it was the wind. The cursed, never-ending wind that almost broke Kristen and Ville Jokinen. The pair were riding the final leg of an unprecedented transcontinental bike odyssey when the wind started pummeling the desolate Patagonia plateau.
Traffic jam in the highlands of Peru.
The Jokinens had left Bend in June 2016, more than a year earlier, on a journey that began on the edge of the Arctic Circle in Alaska’s Prudhoe Bay. The goal was to make it to the tip of Patagonia, the southernmost part of the American continents. The journey had taken them through a dozen countries. They had crossed the Andes six times in Peru just for the scenery. They’d be damned if they were going to let something as simple as wind stop them short. So they took turns grinding against the neverending gusts.
The persistence paid off. In February this year, the two rode together down the final stretch of road at Bahia Lapataia in Argentina’s Tierra del Fuego. They gazed out at the expanse of the sea and shared an embrace. An improbable journey had been ridden to its conclusion.
“We knew that nothing short of a serious injury was going to stop us because we are both so stubborn,” Kristen said.
Eight months later Kristen, a Bend native who graduated from Mountain View High School, is still readjusting to “normal” life. Traffic, text messages, work meetings. The pair have given numerous presentations about their arduous journey to students and civic groups. Kristin, 37, is working on a book and Ville, her husband of seven years, is editing hours of footage, some of which has already been shared on the couple’s fittingly titled blog, We Lost the Map.
Given just the basic outline of the Jokinen’s story, the first question that comes to mind is “why?” But the more you hear about their epic journey, the more pictures you see, the more snippets you gather of their simple sustained existence, the answer becomes obvious. They did it because they could. Like Sir Edmund Hillary, they climbed the mountain because it was there.
Ville and Kristen Jokinen in hot and humid Colombia.
The narrative also makes perfect sense when you consider the context. The pair met on a boat in Vietnam, diving in the Asian sea. Their courtship included numerous trips across the Atlantic when Kristin was living in Bend and Ville, a Finland native, was living in Helsinki. It culminated in the mother of all hikes, the Pacific Crest Trail, which started on the Mexican border and ended at the Canadian border with an engagement proposal in 2011.
It was shortly after that epic trek that the two started contemplating the idea of a bike tour. That idea grew from a flicker of a notion into a full-fledged odyssey when the couple, in the middle of an exhausting home remodel in Bend, decided to pull the plug—on everything. Armed with cursory research by Ville and a passing familiarity with their newly acquired bikes, they set off for Alaska in June 2016 with a backpacking tent, a few camping supplies and a monthly food and entertainment budget of $800.
Given the obstacles, it’s somewhat of a miracle that they completed the ride. They relied on their gear, their wits, luck and sometimes strangers willing to help a pair of gringos far from home.
“We relied so much on other people because we didn’t have money. We had a tent. We’d have to ask if it was safe to camp and [take certain] routes since we didn’t always know which way to go. We didn’t have GPS,” said Kristen.
On February 17, the pair broke their final camp and rode thirty miles to Ushuaia, the southernmost outpost of civilization on the American continent and the launching point for Antarctica-bound cruise ships. It was their logical stopping point, but they weren’t quite done. There were a few more miles of road to be followed. So naturally, they did just that. They bumped their way down a dirt track another fifteen miles where the land gave way to sea. After weeks of nonstop rain and wind, the clouds retreated to reveal blue skies and a sparkling sea. They shared a moment and a few tears. They finished as they began a year-and-a-half earlier, anonymously chasing an impractical dream because they could.
Kristen on Salar De Uyuni, the world’s largest salt flat, in Bolivia.
“That’s how we started. No one was there in Prudhoe Bay, just a few oil field workers. No one knew what we were doing but us,” Kristen said.
As the pair lingered, enjoying a bottle of champagne, a bus arrived with a load of tourists and photographers on a National Geographic tour headed to Antarctica. Noticing the pannier bags and touring gear, someone asked where the adventuresome pair had started their journey. When Kristen replied that they had embarked from Alaska, they were given an impromptu ovation. The anonymous bikers were now celebrities.
After eighteen long months on the road, the pair spent several weeks in Buenos Aires indulging in some of the pleasures they had foregone during their bike odyssey. They ate steak and drank wine. They learned to tango. Then it was time to say goodbye.
Kristen is now back at work selling real estate. Ville, a financial analyst in another life, is working at a grocery store. They’ve sorted through the mail and the unanswered email. They finished the remodel that they abandoned for the trip. Kristen is hoping to finish her book about the journey by the end of the year. The newly finished house is already on the market. They’ve decided they don’t need that much space, not when you can live comfortably out of a tent. They only question, where to next?
Patti Calande’s original collaborations fuse social commentary with civic sensibility.
Patti Calande
If you’ve flown out of the Redmond Airport in the past year, then you’ve encountered Patti Calande’s handiwork. Calande is the Bend artist responsible for the giant red, white and blue tapestry that hangs near the main airport entrance. Calande, along with about two dozen of her artist friends, created the handstitched patchwork American flag from repurposed T-shirts as a fundraiser for the Central Oregon Veteran’s Ranch. The flag was included in a raffle that raised thousands of dollars for the Redmond rehabilitation facility. The owner of the winning ticket donated the flag in turn to the airport.
This is the kind of project that perfectly blends Calande’s progressive community vision with her talent for developing practical artistic collaborations.
Calande said the idea of the flag came amidst the backdrop of toxic discourse in this country. She felt the flag was one symbol that everyone could support.
“Each unique piece when stitched together creates a symbol of unity, freedom and the resilience of our community,” explained Calande. “When you see this flag, you’ll notice each piece is uniquely different, each one made by different hands, each set of hands with their own experiences, background and religion.”
Now in her second decade in Central Oregon, Calande moved with her husband and children from Santa Cruz to Bend in 2004 for a lifestyle change, where the family could enjoy more nearby outdoor pursuits like mountain biking, hiking and skiing. She also found a small but thriving arts community. The first year here, she immediately connected with other artists.
“I’ve made and taught mosaics, soldered copper pipes for garden art and jewelry, taken metalsmith classes and ran a jewelry making business, fused glass and silver, molded clay for ceramics, knitted, felted, and done paper crafting and loved encaustic art,” said Calande, 54, who never feels you’re too old to learn a new art form.
“I feel especially thrilled when I can repurpose something, saving it from the refuse and giving it a new life.”
So, it’s no surprise that Calande has once again brought together the arts community to help Un-bag Bend, a community-driven initiative that aims to eliminate single-use plastic bags in Bend. Recently, Calande invited her friends to bring their sewing machines and scissors to her home to make shopping bags from—you guessed it—used T-shirts.
“In a few hours with about nine or ten women, we made 200 bags that will be distributed around Bend later in the year,” explained Calande. “It just goes to show many hands make light work.”
Calande said Portland, Eugene, Corvallis and Ashland have already banned the single-use plastic bags and said it’s the next logical step for environmentally conscience Bendites.
Though not everyone may agree on a wholesale ban, most Bendites can endorse the idea of making better alternatives readily available. That’s where Calande blends her plastic bag politics with her passion for artistry, providing an environmentally friendly alternative with a touch of local style.
Winter in Central Oregon isn’t just about carving perfect turns on the mountain, but that doesn’t mean you have hole up inside with cabin fever. Whether you want to try a new winter sport or are looking to soak in some history and culture, there’s something here that everyone in the family can enjoy to make it through the season. These are some of our favorite things to do around the region when the days are cold and the nights are long.
1. Take a Snow Bike Ride
Photo by Anelise Bergin
Trail riding has long been a year-round sport in Central Oregon, but the notion has taken on new meaning with the addition of a new “fat bike” loop at Wanoga Sno-Park. Under an agreement with the Forest Service and Meissner Nordic ski community, fat-tired mountain bikes are welcome on a segment of the groomed trail network out of the snow park, located off Century Drive en route to Mount Bachelor. A short and a longer loop allow riders to explore the winter landscape from the bike saddle. The Central Oregon Trail Alliance provides ongoing trail condition updates throughout the winter riding season, which officially begins once two feet of snow has fallen at Wanoga Sno Park. Several bike shops in town provide fat bike rentals, as well as tips on gear and riding conditions. Moderate terrain and the supreme traction and float provided by the wide tire technology makes snow biking an endeavor that can be enjoyed by the whole family. Pack your sleds and enjoy a few closing laps on the adjacent hill, or grab a cup of hot coffee at the well-provisioned snow shelter. We bet you’ll soon find yourself an ambassador of this off-season approach to biking. — Eric Flowers
2. Take a History Tour
Avoid cabin fever this season by visiting one of the region’s museums. The High Desert Museum will keep a family entertained for hours exploring the cultural and natural history exhibits. The new interactive exhibit “Animal Journeys: Navigating in Nature” opened in September and showcases the incredible feats that migrating animals undertake each year. Also on display is an exhibit featuring the photographs of Edward Curtis that depict Native American women, juxtaposed with displays of the women’s art. It’s a fascinating exhibit that explores the multiple layers of this history. — Bronte Dod
3. Become Pinball Wizards and Jukebox Heroes
Try out a different kind of pub crawl in Bend. Gather a group of friends who are game for anything and head to downtown Bend. Start your night at Vector Volcano Arcade. The bar has a lineup of ’80s and ’90s arcade and pinball games that will keep you entertained while you drink a beer or two. Next, head across the street to The Capitol, where you can test out your skills at skee ball and more. End the night at JC’s with a rousing of game of giant Jenga. You’re forgiven if you knock over the tower as long as you don’t spill your drink. — BD
4. Throw a Festivus Party
TV writer Dan O’Keefe’s father created Festivus in the 1960s as an alternative to the pressures of Christmas. The curious holiday entered the popular culture when O’Keefe wrote it into a “Seinfeld” episode. You, too, can celebrate Festivus each December 23 by putting up a simple aluminum pole, delivering the airing of grievances and presenting feats of strength. Don’t forget the Festivus dinner: meatloaf on a bed of lettuce. — Kim Cooper Findling
5. Make a Literary Date
No excuses—it’s time to work through that pile of books on your bedside table. Deepen your relationship with all things literary by seeing author Sarah Vowell speak at Bend High on November 15 as part of Deschutes Public Library Foundation’s Author Author series. Vowell has authored seven nonfiction books, contributes regularly to “This American Life” and is the voice of Violet Parr in The Incredibles. Finally, plan for spring literary events by picking up a copy of the 2019 selection for A Novel Idea, Bend’s community reads program. That title will be announced December 1. — KCF
6. Make Bigfoot Tracks
Photo by Richard Bacon
Take a break from the alpine descents and take a snowshoe tour through the forest. The Gear Fix usually has a few pairs of used snowshoes in stock that you can buy. Or you can rent a pair at Pine Mountain Sports or the Powder House. Pack a backpack with warm drinks, snacks, and extra pairs of gloves and socks—there’s nothing worse than wet and cold feet or hands out in the snow. Drive up Cascade Lakes Highway and take your pick among the sno-parks. Edison Sno-Park has a few designated snowshoeing trails, the longest of which is 3.5 miles. About halfway through the trail there’s a rustic hut where you can warm up any frosty hands or feet by the fire. Pour a warm drink and soak in the quiet forest before heading back out. — BD
7. Take a Sunriver Staycation
Photo courtesy Sunriver Resort
We love winter here in Central Oregon. We build chairs out of old skis, we actually own snowshoes. Heck, we even have a whole weekend dedicated to celebrating winter complete with ice sculptures and locally imported snow. But sometimes we all need a little break from winter. You’re thinking Mexico. Us, too. But when you don’t have the time or the money to beat a full-blown tropical retreat, you need to be creative. Central Oregon’s bevy of destination resorts, complete with indoor pools, spas and gourmet meals make a great getaway even if you feel compelled to pack your skis. You can’t go wrong in Sunriver where onsite amenities, including the SHARC indoor aquatic center, skating rink and ready access to Mt. Bachelor make it a family friendly excursion that’s light on travel and big on fun. If you have young children, this is the place to be around the holidays, beginning with the “Grand Illumination” tree lighting party in mid-November that kicks off a month and a half of holiday activities geared toward families. — EF
8. Enter the (Bowling) Cosmos
The lights are low, the neon is glowing, the ’80s music videos are rolling, and the strikes are coming fast and furious. You must be cosmic bowling at Lava Lanes. Rent the whole 300 Club for a private event and bring everyone you know. Food and drinks are at the ready and Lava Lanes has plenty of bowling shoes to go around. — KCF
9. Find Open Ice
Photo by Eric Flowers
After fifteen years of trial and error, I can say with somewhere north of about 90 percent certainty that sometime between when the last Jack o’ Lantern is snuffed out on Halloween and the time that you start seriously debating tossing out the remnants of your Eberhard’s eggnog, there will be a window—maybe several days long, maybe a week, maybe longer—when the barometric pressure and jet stream align just so, delivering a true glimpse of winter’s full glory. When it does, a near perfect sheet of ice will appear fleetingly on several area water bodies. I prefer Reynolds Pond in Alfalfa, a seemingly unlikely yet reliable place to find a game of pick-up hockey in Central Oregon. Wake early on these mornings, head east and you’ll find a dedicated group of skaters who take to the gleaming sheet with the abandon of schoolchildren. If you’re lucky, there will a bonfire crackling in the freshly fallen snow. You won’t find rental skates or be asked to sign a waiver of liability—this is old school DIY winter entertainment, Gordie Howe style. Game on. — EF
10. Book A Dog-Sled Ride
Photo by Alex Jordan
If you’ve ever parked a car at Mt. Bachelor’s Sunrise Lodge lot, then you’ve heard the eager yips of Rachael Scdoris’s sled dogs. A former Iditarod racer who gained notoriety for completing the epic race as a legally blind musher, Scdoris runs Oregon Trail of Dreams with her husband, Nick, offering adventuresome riders a little slice of Yukon Gold Rush culture in the heart of Central Oregon. Ensconced in cozy wool blankets, riders glide along groomed trails at the base of Mt. Bachelor behind a pack of sprinting sled dogs. Grab a hot chocolate in the Sunrise Lodge to warm up afterwards. — EF
11. Get Your Knit On
Having a project to do each winter is one of the ways to justify your hours-long TV binges. Try your hand at knitting or crocheting a blanket. The learning curve is fairly easy, even for kids, and with two new yarn shops recently opened in Bend, you can find find inspiration and community to guide you through the project. Fancywork Yarn Shop and Wool Town both offer weekly sessions, so you can step away from the screen and meet fellow textile hobbyists. — BD
12. Host A Cookie Party
Baking holiday cookies is a tradition that transcends time and trends. It’s a delightful messy activity that puts friends and family in the heart of the home, fosters conversation and encourages collaboration that can be arranged with little expertise or investment. This year, invite friends over and turn it into a party. It’s a great way to host a casual gathering during the all-too hectic holidays. Supplies are cheap, so offer to provide everything that’s needed for baking, flour and yeast, sugar, colorful sprinkles and frosting. Convert your kitchen into a makeshift bakery complete with stations for making and rolling dough, as well as shaping and decorating cookies. Stock up on cookie tins or ask your guests to bring their own. Your friends can load and label them as gifts to help spread a little seasonal cheer. — EF
Thom and Cyndie Bell’s extravagant remodel “Ranger’s Ridge” is a museum-like art venue on a cliff-top view property.
Photo by Brandon Nixon
When Thom and Cyndie Bell moved from Orange County in 2004 and bought a property west of Redmond, they chose the house for the view. Set high on a canyon cliff overlooking a stretch of the Deschutes River just upriver from Cline Falls State Scenic Viewpoint, with the peaks of Mount Jefferson and Mount Bachelor in the distance, the home offered a birds-eye view of rimrock, the river, wildlife and plenty of sky. The eight-acre parcel was just enough for their two horses, a border collie named Ranger and themselves.
But the house itself, built in the 1980s, needed updating. The Bells, who are retired from the advertising business in Los Angeles, are avid art collectors with vivid and specific design ideals. By the time they were ready to renovate their home, they’d spent years contemplating exactly what they had in mind to recreate Ranger’s Ridge.
The four-year project, completed in 2013, took the house down to the studs, added 1,500 square feet, incorporated dozens of floor-toceiling windows, and completely transformed the house. The result is a stunning 4,200-square-foot modern home filled with works of art and offering views at every turn.
Light and Sightlines
Photo by David Papazian
The dominant design concept for the redesign was “open.” The couple doubled the number of windows in the house, turning walls into windows in many places. “The floor to ceiling windows opened things up considerably,” said Thom. “Every view was enhanced.”
To get a sense of the home’s aesthetic, step into the master bathroom. While primarily a utilitarian space, it’s a gorgeous one. The room incorporates an uninterrupted row of horizontal windows at eye level, through which are old-growth juniper trees covered in green lichen, and beyond, chocolatecolored river canyon walls sliced through by the blue cut of the river. Cyndie loves the room for “the views and the light,” she said. A glass shower, deep tub, and tile and wood accents balance out the room.
The bath illustrates the grandeur of the home, throughout which great measures were taken to maintain precise design elements and an open feeling. For instance, the supporting wall near the front entry, which extends to the second floor alongside the stairway, was constructed as a screen wall instead of a solid wall, meaning stacked, vertical-grain fir beams separated with steel supports. Guests’ eyes can see easily, if not completely, through the slots between the beams, maintaining light and openness.
The wall, as well as a striking handpatinaed metal fireplace, were the two most challenging features of the home to complete, said Dan Stockel of R&H Construction, contractor on the home project. He said that working closely with the Bells to adhere to their high-concept design ideals was challenging but rewarding. “In Thom’s view, perfect does exist,” he explained. “It was great to see our crews pushed to achieve that.”
Personal Art Gallery
This Egyptian horse sculpture in bronze is centuries old and tops a high bookshelf. Photo by Brandon Nixon.
Every wall and every room in the house is adorned with art. Paintings galore and sculptures in metals, ceramic and glass are everywhere. “Our vision was that our home be like a museum gallery,” said Thom. “We collect museum-quality pieces with classic, iconic design. We look for timelessness and lasting design principles.”
A reproduction of Donatello’s David perches near the living room windows. Carved stone busts sit on tables. A polished horn of a Texas longhorn adorns the kitchen counter. A stylized Egyptian horse several centuries old sits high on a bookshelf in the upstairs lounge. A spectacular contemporary mixed-media painting is hung from the back of the fireplace. Five lengths of fused glass in varying colors cling to the laundry room wall.
“Our aesthetic is contemporary mixed with antiquity,” explained Thom. “Modern balanced with classic.” The furniture and fixtures are as much of a work of art as the artworks themselves. A white leather couch is partnered with black leather Barcelona chairs in the living room. Nearby, the dining room table has a clever set of gears within that retract the table’s leaves, depending on number of guests for that meal. “We want every room to have a balance of color, form and texture,” said Thom.
One piece of art is particularly personal. It’s a torch from the 1984 Olympics framed in plexiglass and secured to a dining room wall. “The torch had been carried across the U.S., runner to runner,” recalled Cyndie. “I was the last runner in Orange County, and carried it to the stadium.”
Cowboy Culture
Western themed tack room. Photo by Brandon Nixon.
If the house is a museum of antiquity and contemporary art, the tack room is a spatial immersion in Western culture. Thom is an avid horseman who enjoys cutting competitions and formerly participated on a mounted search and rescue team for San Bernardino County. Equally laden in artworks as the house, the tack room exudes classy, cowboy charm. “This space is totally different than the house,” he said.
A shelf of whisky glistens in an antique cabinet; leather tooling backs a coat rack; signed rodeo posters line the walls. A cowhide chaise lounge accents the center of the room. Saddles hang from the wall, indicating that for all of its beauty, the tack room is a working space, too.
But About That View
Photo by David Papazian
The former deck, Cyndie said, was multilevel with many different, disjointed heights. “We leveled it all out,” she explained. The wide expanse of composite decking is the perfect platform to take in what drew the Bells to the site in the first place. “We see eagles, osprey, hawks,” Cyndie said, gazing down upon the river. “At night the moon reflects in the river. The trees change. You can really see all four seasons portrayed here.”
Thom stood near, taking in the expansive view. “We feel very blessed,” he said.
An avid runner and entrepreneur re-envisioned a common product that hadn’t seen updates in decades.
How do Bendites incorporate kids into their exercise routines? For runners, it used to be so-called jogging strollers. But those were heavy, awkward and hadn’t seen innovation in decades. That is, until Will Warne had an idea.
In 2009, he fused a windsurfing harness, a toilet plunger, two deconstructed baby joggers and a web of PC pipe to create a hands-free stroller capable of towing a child. One morning, Warne took what he dubbed the KidRunner out for its first trial run with his six-month-old daughter in tow. The debut model, while shaky, demonstrated that hands-free kid strollers were not only practical, but superior to their push-operated counterparts.
Warne, 50, is a Los Angeles native who was working in “global retail logistics” at the time. “I started drawing on napkins like people do,” said Warne of the product’s origins.
After his initial Home Depot-sourced prototype, Warne took his idea to a do it yourself workshop in San Francisco, and then reached out to partners with industrial design and engineering experience hoping to streamline the design process.
“Running is a really dynamic motion, so in order to make running with something attached to you comfortable, we had to innovate,” said Warne.
Local professional runner Max King was an early ambassador of the product.
“I’ve used it on easy runs and used it in the Bigfoot race,” said King. “I’ve run with traditional strollers for a long time, and it was always a pain in the butt. It was a great new experience being able to run hands-free and biomechanically efficient.”
Fueled by Bend’s enthusiastic running community, KidRunner prototypes began to crop up around town, but the product got its first taste of national publicity on the popular entrepreneurship TV show Shark Tank in 2016. Although the company didn’t receive an offer from the celebrity investors, the slot got the product in front of approximately 14 million viewers—the equivalent of an estimated $9 million worth of advertising.
KidRunner recently sold out its go-to-market launch of 100, and the next step will involve exploring new distribution channels with retailers like REI.
“Today, we represent the first and only high-performance, multi-terrain hands-free kid jogger in the world. We want to create a whole new category for active parents in children mobility—biking, cross country skiing and running. We want to be a great Bend outdoor brand,” said Warne.
Head north for a day of outdoor exploration that includes a dramatic waterfall, rockhounding and a well-earned happy hour in Madras.
Plunge Into White River Falls
Photo by Gavin Hardcastle
Tell friends in Bend that you spent the day exploring the greater Tygh Valley area and you’re likely to get a blank stare in return. That’s understandable, given that this sparsely populated section of the Columbia plateau northeast of Maupin doesn’t get a lot of visitors. But it’s worth more than a passing glance with its rolling wheat fields, historic homesteads and almost ghost towns. The biggest attraction is the sprawling White River State Park that is wedged into a narrow valley between Mount Hood to the west and the Deschutes River to the east. The heart of the park is a dramatic plunge falls that cascades 100-plus feet over a basalt shelf into a roiling pool below. The park also includes a historic powerhouse, a remnant from an earlier era when the river was harnessed to provide electricity to farms and towns around the valley. The hydroelectric project was idled in the early 1960s when the Dalles Dam was completed on the Columbia River, delivering power to the valley and well beyond.
Dig a Thunderegg
Central Oregon’s volcanic origins left us snow-capped mountains and refrigerator-cool desert grottos. If you want your own piece of Central Oregon’s geology, then head to Richardson’s Rock Ranch outside of Madras. Here, rockhounds are invited to work one of the region’s largest and most productive thunderegg beds. These orange-sized rocks are split open to reveal a marble-like interior of polished quartz and silica in brilliant colors and elaborate patterns. Richardson’s provides digging materials and basic instructions for a DIY dig, or just peruse the ample selection in their onsite store (while dodging the roaming peacocks outside) and grab one for the road.
Kick back in Margaritaville
After you’ve checked waterfalls and rock mining off your to-do list, reward yourself with a stop a Rio Distinctive Cuisine in Madras. If you’re on a tight schedule, grab a cold cerveza and order the table-made guacamole before you head home. Better yet, linger a bit. Order a Casa Del Rio Margarita and a plate of the puerco emmolado, slow roasted pork shoulder served with mango mole sauce.
Breaking down three winter beers made in Central Oregon that run the gamut of flavors and profiles.
The Godfather
Deschutes Brewery: Jubelale Style: Old Ale / Winter Warmer Alcohol by volume: 6.7% Barrels brewed annually: 9,500
The first beer bottled by Deschutes was created in 1988 by John Harris, one of the company’s original brewers at the Bond Street pub. Harris’s intent was to brew a “winter warmer” in the style of an English Old Ale, a traditionally stronger beer often brewed during the holidays in appreciation of a pub’s loyal customers, as well as a stronger tipple to get through the winter months. The Jubelale recipe has changed very little over the years, though in 2011 Deschutes adjusted the process slightly to recapture its character from the early years.
The Sleeper Pick
Worthy Brewing: Dark Muse Barrel Aged Imperial Stout Style: Imperial Stout Alcohol by volume: 10.1% Barrels brewed annually: 30
A burly beer for the winter months, Dark Muse is roasty, chocolatey, creamy and warming—exactly what an imperial stout should be. Developed by Worthy’s original head brewer Chad Kennedy, Dark Muse is aged in bourbon barrels for an additional contribution of oak, vanilla and booziness. The recipe changes slightly each year based on the specific variety of bourbon barrels that Worthy acquires, yielding a vintaged treat that can be enjoyed over the holidays or laid down to age for future years.
The New Kid on the Block
Monkless Belgian Ales: Friar’s Festivus Style: Belgian-style Quadruple Alcohol by volume: 10.2% Barrels brewed annually: 35
Belgian brewing has a long tradition of brewing Bières de Noël, or Christmas beers, brewed strong and often incorporating holiday spices in the recipe. Monkless is the only local brewery brewing in this tradition, and at the same time, a bit outside the box from Belgian tradition. Friar’s Festivus, returning for its second year, is boozy but balanced and spiced with mace and cardamom for something festive yet slightly different.
The year is 2040. You drive through Bend, population 150,000, following signs to the local campus of Oregon State University.
OSU-Cascades officially opened its doors in 2001, holding classes on the Central Oregon Community College campus. In 2015, the university broke ground on a permanent home on the west side of Bend, despite opposition from neighbors concerned about traffic and an already crowded housing market. Many Bend residents had barely glimpsed the 128- acre site, which housed an old landfill and 100-foot-deep pumice mine, long cordoned off by chain-link fences and berms. The campus got final approval for its long range development plan in the middle of 2018. Here’s a peek at its future.
If you want to visit the campus, go to 1.
If you want to visit the surrounding area of Bend, go to 2.
1. Visit OSU-Cascades Campus
Zip around a series of new roundabouts to arrive on campus. Watch out for bikes! Especially the electric ones now preferred by students and faculty. They zoom along bike lanes and paths to avoid traffic jams, occasionally using the boost of an electric engine to arrive at class without breaking a sweat or burning a drop of fossil fuels.
Park your car or dock your bike and take a moment to look around. Forget about ivy-covered brick walls, this is not that kind of college.
It is “a really beautiful campus with lots of space for people to access, whether walking your dog or taking a bike ride or coming for a lecture or maybe some music event,” said Becky Johnson, vice president of OSU-Cascades. “We’re specifically designing it so it invites people on campus.”
A total of over ten miles of soft trails and paved bike paths zig zag across the campus, which is quiet despite the steady stream of students and joggers. The low-slung, modern-style buildings, all clad in neutral colors, recede into the sagebrush and ponderosas.
Population growth in Central Oregon has far outpaced student enrollment. Kelly Sparks, associate vice president for finance and strategic planning, estimated in 2018 that a new building would be constructed every couple of years, as 200 to 300 more students join the ranks. And Julie Gess-Newsome, dean of academic affairs, said that for the first decade or so, two to five new academic programs would be added each year. So even as the campus master plan was approved in 2018, officials didn’t know exactly what each building in the plan would be used for—or even what topics the students and faculty inside would be studying.
In the heart of the development is the quiet academic core of the university. Because the site is terraced, these buildings appear from the edge of campus to be just one story tall, even lower than the private developments across Chandler Avenue.
A young woman in an orange OSU-Cascades T-shirt is walking backwards and speaking to a tour group. She motions for you to join them.
If you want to join a tour for prospective students, go to 3.
If you want to join a tour for out-of-town architects and building professionals, go to 4.
2. OSU-Cascades and Bend
Remember back in 2018, when the area surrounding the university’s west side campus looked like a suburban business park? Parts of it are unrecognizable now. A parade of excavators, cranes and cement trucks has morphed this into a bustling urban core. About 500 acres between the university and the Old Mill District were rezoned in 2016. It’s one of three “opportunity areas” identified by the city as hubs for taller, denser redevelopment. The designation allows for mixed-use buildings with restaurants and retail on the ground floor, and offices and apartments above.
In 2018, ten years into an expansion cycle that saw Bend emerge as one of country’s fastest growing cities, Bend’s planners predicted at least one more softening of the market and another ramping up as well by the year 2040.
“We haven’t assumed the build-out of that whole area, by any stretch,” said Brian Rankin, long-range planner for the city of Bend who developed some of the city’s growth plans for the area. “Built into those plans was some flexibility to absorb the ebbs and flows of the economy. When the market softens, things slow down. It continues in these longer, larger cycles.”
About ten mixed-use developments have popped up here, each six stories tall. Rather than segregating industrial, commercial and residential development, a combination of uses is allowed in a single building here. It is one of the fastest-growing areas within Bend’s city limits. This one neighborhood has about 1,500 more homes, including apartments, and 1,500 more jobs than it did in 2018.
Along 14th Street, it’s hard to discern exactly where the campus begins. This is a gray area, an “innovation district” with private buildings that are connected to the university.
A young woman in an orange OSU-Cascades T-shirt steps in front of you and announces that a tour is beginning. You decide to join it.
If you want to join a tour for prospective students, go to 3.
If you want to join a tour for out-of-town architects and building professionals, go to 4.
3. Prospective Students
With a public elementary school on campus that includes an early childhood education center—both closely affiliated with the university’s education programs—there’s no need to wait until age 18 to go to OSU-Cascades.
“You could go to elementary school here, you could recreate here, you could go to college here, you could get a job here … you may even be able to retire here,” said Sparks.
Roughly 2,000 students, 40 percent of the total enrollment, live on campus. The campus also has housing for faculty and, when space allows, makes it available at market rates for unaffiliated households earning $45,000 to $90,000 in 2018 dollars.
The campus is where you’ll find one of the most diverse populations in Central Oregon, and that’s not by accident. It’s the result of programs like Juntos, in which OSU employees work with Latino families statewide to make sure high school students get the support they need to access higher education.
There’s no football team at OSU-Cascades, but you can cheer on the skiing, cycling and Frisbee golf clubs. There are recreational fields in the far corner of campus, near Simpson and Mt. Washington. A fitness facility is twice the size required by the university, so members of the public can swim or take an aerobics class here. Health was one of the initial goals of the campus.
“We want students to be healthier when they graduate than they were when they arrived,” said Christine Coffin, a spokeswoman for the university.
The campus rehabilitated the mine and landfill even before it dotted the refreshed landscape with buildings. Creating public open space was part of the university’s campaign strategy, as campus growth was dependent not only on state funding but on private donations, as well.
“Cleaning up the old landfill, building new roads … that’s not generally paid for through tuition,” said Johnson.
Sometime between 2018 and 2040, the state likely changed its methods for funding higher education “and probably not in a favorable way,” Johnson added. “I think in general there are other states where the state has stopped funding capital [improvements]. And when that happens, you have to borrow, and the only way to pay back is tuition, so you have to keep raising tuition.”
One of the campus’s stated goals is sustainability, and campus leaders say that if college is not affordable for students, the institution itself isn’t sustainable.
Matt Shinderman, senior instructor of natural resources, said that although he doesn’t expect OSU-Cascades to have solved the college affordability crisis by 2040, he does expect to see the university running “at least a program or two leading the way.”
If you’re ready to enroll, begin your internship by going to 5.
If you would rather kick back at the campus pub, go to 6.
4. For Professionals
It may sound odd for a college campus to offer tours to building professionals, but if you’re going to spend any time at OSU-Cascades, you might as well get used to it. Beginning with a feature in Landscape Architecture Magazine in 2018, the campus has garnered all kinds of attention for its sustainable approach to designing and building atop not one but two former blights: a landfill and a pumice mine.
Workers sorted and reused materials from the landfill, which was a buried pile of construction debris. By reusing materials already on site, the campus eliminated the need for nearly 30,000 truckloads of imported fill material. Berms and fill were moved around to transform the mine, a pit that was 100- feet deep, into the base of a three-level terrace.
Some walls of the mine were left exposed, a subtle nod to the land’s mining heritage. Crevices were carved in those cliffs to provide habitat for native bat species—just one example of how the campus’s development is on the forefront of environmentally minded design.
“I really want the physical … campus to be a demonstration site, a living, learning laboratory where we’re demonstrating site-appropriate landscaping strategies that also serve a habitat benefit, water conservation strategies, a place where we can take our students to learn about what we’re talking about inside the classroom,” Shinderman said.
The initial goal was for the campus to be net zero in energy, water and, most ambitiously, waste. In 2040, the campus is getting ready to go off the grid entirely, thanks to geothermal energy and a field of solar panels.
Many of the trees and native plants that you pass are decades older than the campus itself. As part of the sustainable construction process, native shrubs and grasses were dug up and housed in a nearby nursery, then replanted around new buildings and paths. Thanks to a project that Shinderman’s students started back in 2017, native plants across campus have QR codes posted to next to them, which visitors may scan with their smartphones to learn more about the species.
You walk across an oval green to return to the busy portion of campus along 14th Street known as the “innovation district.”
If you want to clock in for your internship, go to 5.
If you want to relax in the campus pub, go to 6.
5. Internship
To get to your internship on the edge of the OSU-Cascades campus, you could walk, bike, ride a bus or try a mode of transport that didn’t have a name back in 2018.
“OSU-Cascades is the catalyst for transportation options on the campus but also expanding out of it,” said Jeff Munson, executive director of Commute Options, a nonprofit in Bend. He said the university is responsible for bringing the first bike sharing and car sharing programs to Bend. And the university created a mobility lab to experiment with new methods of transportation, including an on-demand carpooling program that’s a cross between Uber and a bus.
The innovation district is made up of private businesses, each one doing “something that’s very collaborative and connected to the university,” Johnson said. “We think that is going to spill out beyond the campus as well. That’s just going to keep moving up toward Colorado [Avenue].”
Kinesiology students and engineering students could work with physical therapists in the district to make prototypes for new medical devices, for example. Or outdoor product design students and natural resource students could team up with a bike touring company to help reduce cyclists’ impact on local trails.
“By 2040, I hope the innovation district is half-built,” said Sparks. You walk into a building that’s named after Chuck McGrath, who moved his biotechnology company, Grace Bio- Labs, from Michigan to Bend in the mid-1990s. Grace Bio- Labs also has two buildings within a mile of the campus, on Emkay and Cyber drives. An early booster of OSU-Cascades, McGrath donated $1 million to help fund one of the first academic buildings.
“I would like to see Grace Bio-Labs be an anchor tenant in the new innovation district,” he said, looking forward to a day when his company, which develops new technology for vaccinations, helps train students “and my company can recruit from there.”
Gess-Newsome said that by turning to the community for help determining which new programs to offer at OSUCascades, the university can help meet the economic needs of the region. And private donations help fill funding gaps to develop new academic programs. A $250,000 donation by Bend-based Hydro Flask helped fund the development of a unique outdoor products major, for example.
“It’s beneficial for us to create a talent pool right here in our backyard,” said Lucas Alberg, a spokesman for Hydro Flask.
McGrath said that by attracting biotechnology companies, for example, the university will help “recession-proof” Central Oregon, which is currently vulnerable to market downturns because it’s so heavily dependent on discretionary spending such as recreation and tourism.
When you’re done working, head to the campus pub. Go to 6.
6. What’s Next?
You didn’t think Bend would be home to a dry campus, did you? Of course not. In all likelihood, by 2040, science and engineering programs, along with buy-in from local breweries—how many are we up to now?—has led to a fermentation science program at OSU-Cascades.
So go ahead and order a pint. It’s the result of decades of vision and investment from the community. As you take a sip, you wonder: What’s next?
Tim Riefke didn’t have a background in high tech and was a newcomer to Bend, which naturally made him the perfect person to take the helm at BendTECH last year.
Tim Riefke is technically the first executive director at BendTECH, a local nonprofit coworking space and startup incubator. During his short tenure he has helped to nearly double the organization’s membership while pushing initiatives like an Out in Tech event to promote inclusion of the LGBTQ community. Next up is a planned expansion that will add work space to accommodate the organization’s recent growth. We talked to Riefke about his accomplishments and plans for BendTECH.
What is BendTECH?
BendTECH is really becoming the front door for a lot of people who move here. A lot of what we do here as a nonprofit coworking community is connections. We get people plugged in and pointed to the resources for whatever field they are in.
What brought you to Bend?
I moved to Bend to retire from corporate life. I took a five-month sabbatical and played in the mountains and had an amazing summer. I consult part time to pay the bills, but I really dedicate a lot of my time to be involved in the community. Last year was I working with three nonprofit organizations: BendTECH, Bend 2030 and Out Central Oregon, which is an LGBTQ organization, and I transitioned them from a Facebook social group to a 501c3 with a mission and a board and the infrastructure to take that community to the next step.
You’ve also made inclusion of the LGBTQ community a priority at BendTECH as well, right?
It’s not just LGBTQ, it’s all underrepresented groups who don’t have the same access to resources and networks and even just basic needs. There’s definitely an underserved community in Central Oregon, and it’s disheartening to see some of the struggles that people have to endure. So it’s part of what we decided our mission would be, to create a safe place for everybody.
What attracted you to this position?
I managed a $10 billion real estate portfolio for Deutsche Bank. I understand real estate—buying, selling, operating. But I quickly realized the group of individuals in this room is more than the sum of its parts. The community is a phenomenal group of people in just a traditional Bend way. Everybody is trying to help each other. Seeing two people sitting next to each other at a desk and have an idea, start a company and go raise money in real time is really powerful. It made me excited about being in Bend because there are a lot of things going on here. It’s more than just the mountain and being outside and drinking beer. There’s a vibrant entrepreneur community.
Do we have the capacity to support more of this remote worker and startup economy in Bend, or have we reached our ceiling?
As long as the economic conditions remain favorable and barring any sort of major events, I think we’re really riding a macro trend right now with the gig economy and big companies embracing working remote policies. And it’s always going to be certain niches. Product managers, developers, freelance creative types—that’s where I see a lot of growth. We’ll never be Silicon Valley, but we also don’t want to be Silicon Valley. Everyone who has moved here from California wants to live the Bend life.
How do you see BendTECH’s role evolving beyond the coworking mission?
What I see are a lot of silos across the city. As executive director of BendTECH I think we could use our platform to connect the community in new and interesting ways and broaden the reach of what is being accomplished today. Maybe that’s a little ambitious. But if we create more partnerships and collaborate, we can accomplish more.
The “Elbow Room” appeals to anyone who wants to get away from it all—but mostly to women.
It was Virginia Woolf who first coined the phrase “a room of one’s own,” and what woman—especially those who have shared homes with men, children or pets—hasn’t craved a private space over the years?
Builder Pauly Anderson of Bend responded to his wife’s desire for her own space and created the Elbow Room, a freestanding, self-enclosed and very small building. He’s built five 200 square foot Elbow Rooms in Bend so far, and though he doesn’t restrict his clientele by gender, he said it’s mostly women who are reaching out. Some see the Elbow Room as perfect for an art studio or yoga space, some for a small office or place to escape from the kids.
“Men want a larger space, a dirty garage,” he said. “Women are more likely to want a small, enclosed space, something warm and cozy. I am in conversation with many perspective clients, and most of them are women.”
Anderson is a native North Dakotan and he and his wife Shelly have been Bend residents for nearly a decade. Shelly works as a voice and visual artist. “We have a Jack Russell terrier that likes to bark,” said Pauly. “My intent was to create a space to isolate her from noise.”
As a professional builder, Anderson wasn’t willing to just throw up a pre-fab enclosure, however. The Elbow Room, while classified as a garden shed in terms of land use (the structure is under 200 square feet and has no kitchen or bathroom), is anything but. “You’ve heard of the ‘She Shed’,” he said. “Those are actually sheds. They have limited use. I want the Elbow Room to be used year-round.” Anderson builds sturdy and beautiful structures beyond the expectations of building code. Transom windows allow light from above while maintaining wall space to hang art. Electric radiant heat in the flooring keeps the space warm.
Shelly spends around six hours a day in her Elbow Room, which stands behind the couple’s west side Bend home. The space, as intended, is cozy and warm, attractive and appealing, with a slanted roof and exterior painted a cheerful, whimsical leaf green. “It’s easy to come to work,” said Shelly. “It’s easy to focus here. I look forward to it.”
Making a case for a building a garage you actually want to spend time in.
Man Cave. Dude Dungeon. Bro Bungalow. Mantuary. Man Land. Whatever you call this sacred room, don’t go looking for floral chintz pillows, French country decorative candles and definitely not for potpourri within its boundaries.
Women know our homes are not our man’s castle, they are our castle. We make most of the decorating decisions in most of the rooms, which is why the men in our lives get full domain and decorating decisions in their man caves.
A poll by servicemagic.com, a home improvement marketplace, found that 40 percent of surveyed homeowners had a man cave, while another 13 percent reported they had one in the planning stages. “Guys want one room they can retreat to and indulge in,” says Mike Yost, founder of mancavesite.org and co-author of The Man Cave Book. “Man may no longer rule over his castle, but he’s still king of the garage, or his man cave.”
Bend homeowner Tim Scianamblo has been building the perfect man cave for five years, since he moved to Central Oregon. His 2,800-square-foot garage/man cave is as large as his actual house, and next spring he plans on expanding it so that it would be 800 feet larger than the house.
“My whole life I’ve dreamed of a garage like this,” said Scianamblo, as he spread his arms in his man cave. Some men collect sports memorabilia for their man caves, like a Seahawk’s football jersey or sports trophies from yesteryear. Scianamblo’s decorations are taken to another level. He collects classic cars, and all things auto related, including a full size traffic light, a real parking meter that takes coins, and an 8-track player that still plays his Peter Frampton and Pat Benetar tapes. The space is really more like a car museum, with high gloss black and white checkered flooring.
“When I was 16, I owned a 1957 Chevy, and my fascination of cars grew from there.” Scianamblo’s car showroom houses collector cars in mint condition, among them a red 1971 Jaguar E-Type. “Enzo Ferrari once said this was the most beautiful car ever designed,” explained Scianamblo, running his hand over the hood of this aerodynamic car. “There’s a ton of history in this car, and it’s also found in New York City at the MoMA [Museum of Modern Art] as part of its permanent art collection.”
Next to the Jag sits a 1967 Corvette C-2 Stingray in Marlborough Maroon and three Porsches: a black 1987 Porsche 911-Targa, a taxi yellow 1973 Porsche 914 and a fire engine red 2012 Porsche 997.2 GTS, which Scianamblo has taken on the race track at the Portland International Raceway a few times.
The garage door is graced with a large Batman poster, and Scianamblo jokes that this is his bat cave, but he does share it with his wife, Jane Dunham, who has her own classic car. “Yes, this is my white 1968 Mini Cooper Innocenti from Italy,” said Dunham, gesturing at the exterior wood trim. “When I drive it, people are always waving at me and stopping me. It’s really fun to drive.”
Tucked away near the Mini Cooper are four beautiful vintage Vespa scooters. On a vacation to Vietnam, Dunham and Scianamblo rented these vintage scooters, and liked them so much they brought them home as souvenirs.
Scianamblo said his man cave isn’t for entertaining. “This is just a place I want to be in, and to get away to when I have free time.” But Dunham laughed at that notion. “Every dinner party we host, we always end up in here.”
Drive south from Bend and hang a left at La Pine. This is the Oregon Outback. Rugged, remote and nary another soul in sight.
Homesteading History
Photo by Alex Jordan
Stretch your legs in history at the Fort Rock Homestead Museum. A handful of late-1800s era buildings are filled with historic items to discover. Take a few minutes to learn about the history of the homesteaders who tried to make a home in this rugged country.
Race Against the Snow
Photo by Kat Dierickx
Hager Mountain is about an hour from the museum. While the trail is heavily trafficked in spring and summer for peak wildflower season, by late fall the hike has mostly cleared out. There are a few routes to get to the top, depending on how far you want to hike. A four-mile trek to the summit begins at the trailhead on East Bay Road. Follow the trail through a Ponderosa forest until you reach the top. A rustic fire lookout awaits at the summit, and can be rented out from November through March each year. (Getting a reservation is difficult due to its popularity.)
Oregon’s Outback Steak (and Chicken) House
Photo by Melissa Whitney
Hopefully the eight-mile trek has worked up an appetite in you. A half-hour drive back to Silver Lake is all that sits between you and one of the best meals you can dream of. Cowboy Dinner Tree is a destination in itself. The reservation-only restaurant provides a generous meal—think a whole chicken to a plate and steaks bigger than your head—all without using electricity. It’s a family-friendly dining experience, where you’ll leave on a first name basis with the owners and chefs.
Sometime between the middle of September and the middle of November, I get the urge to read a moody book. I am not a person who likes to be scared; horror movies and truly scary books I just pass right over. But, I do love a solidly creepy tale during autumn. There is something about the light of fall, the crisp air and the smell of woodsmoke that makes me want to curl up with a slightly sinister novel. I have read all of these books multiple times and have cherished copies that sit proudly on my bookshelves at home, waiting until the leaves begin to turn to be pulled out and re-read.
The Secret History by Donna Tartt
If you want that sinister autumnal feeling and a murder mystery.
Less of a Who-Done-It than a Why-Done-IT, Tartt investigates the banality of evil in a beautifully crafted novel about a group of college friends, who while studying Classics at an elite New England college manage to kill someone during a reenactment of a Bacchanalian rite. Fair warning: There are no “likable” characters in The Secret History, but it is still oh so good.
What Was She Thinking: Notes on a Scandal by Zoë Heller
If you want a story that will slowly give you the creeps.
Sheba Hart is a middle aged, middle class teacher in suburban London when she begins an illicit affair with an underage student. When the scandal breaks Sheba is a social pariah, ripe for the kind friendship of prim, respectable Barbara, an elderly teacher who has been at the school forever. And Barbara has been waiting for just such a friend as this, utterly alone and desperate. What Was She Thinking: Notes on a Scandal will give you a deep case of the chills.
Lolly Willowes by Sylvia Townsend Warner
If you love Jane Austen’s books, but wish there was more Satan in them.
When Laura Willowes’ father dies, she is left with her inheritance and the unassuming, and unremarkable, life of a spinster aunt caring for her brother’s children in London. For years she does exactly what society expects of her, until all of a sudden she doesn’t. Lolly Willowes is an early feminist classic that’s a perfect read in the fall.
Thornyhold by Mary Stewart
If you want a mildly witchy hearth-and-home novel.
Thonyhold was once described to me as a “Witchy Anne of Green Gables” and it fits. Geillis lives a lonely childhood in pre-WWII England, periodically brightened by random visits from her eccentric herbalist and world traveling aunt. As a young woman, the same aunt leaves her an old estate in the English countryside. As Geillis learns the secrets of her overgrown estate and its heirloom flowers she discovers maybe Thornyhold isn’t all she inherited from her aunt. This is every inch the comfort read with white magic, hedgewitchery and a cat named Hodge.
Bunnicula: A Rabbit Tale of Mystery by Deborah and James Howe
If you wish books had more vampire bunnies in them.
I can’t recommend autumnal stories without a bonus mention of a book I read every year (a tradition which now my children have picked up). I can honestly recommend Bunnicula: A Rabbit Tale of Mystery to everyone between 5 and 105. When a small rabbit shows up at the Monroe household, leaving behind mysteriously drained vegetables, it is up to Chester the Cat and Howard the Dog to solve the mystery of this night creeping rabbit before it is too late.
Hyper-visited Smith Rock settles down to just you and a few friends in late fall. Now’s the time to hike crowd-free and ponder the towering tuff spires.
To climb or not to climb?
Pack a jacket and bring your park pass but don’t worry about finding parking, because fall is far less crowded at Smith Rock State Park. Drop to the Crooked River and climb up aptly named Misery Ridge for the workout and the views. With kids, dogs or your parents? Stroll around the base of this majestic volcanic tuff formation instead—it’s an easy hike with plenty of splendor, no climbing required.
Alpaca, Youpacka
Photo by Justin Bailie
Alpaca babies are called cria, and they are born March through autumn. Stop by Crescent Moon Ranch in Terrebonne to see alpacas up close, from the newest babies to their fuzzy parents. Crescent Moon is also home to an Alpaca Boutique, showcasing items for sale from wool scarves to socks to hats, perfect to outfit you into the colder season.
Tacos and Beer For the Win
Kobold Brewing has been around since 2015 and opened the Vault Taphouse in Redmond a year ago. Roll in after your Terrebonne tour for a sip of the Screeching Blonde Ale, an easy-to-drink brew with light biscuit and honey flavors. Munch on the never-ending supply of popcorn from the Vault’s popcorn machine or grab a taco from the Westside Taco Company cart on site. Try the chicken mole—olé!
The Single Speed World Championship, a mountain biking race that doesn’t take itself too seriously, recently took over the town, with raucous and rowdy results.
I looked up from the bottom of “Hospital Hill” after navigating my borrowed 1999 singlespeed GT mountain bike down a treacherous section of questionable trail. Covered head to toe in dust, I peered through the sealed, dark lenses of mountaineering goggles looking like I’m straight out of a scene from Burning Man. I gazed up at what may as well be a ski slope without the snow. After ingesting a shot of rye whiskey from an “aid” station at the top, racers either glide their bikes, walk or stumble their way down this sheer mountain face of infinite dirt. But the “Rasta Rocket” (Adam Prosise) came ripping down upon his bike, leaving the rest of us in a cloud of volcanic dust.
After surviving the weekend upon the saddles of two-wheel singlespeed cycling machines hurling through raucous pub crawls, historic parties and a forty-mile bike race, the dust clouds have finally cleared, and the 2018 Single Speed World Championship (SSWC) has come to a close. For five days in October, Bend saw approximately 700 riders from across the globe partake in the twenty-third annual event of cycling shenanigans.
The event was originally coined in 1995 as “The Wasted Hairy Insanely Retro League of Enlightened Degenerates” and took place in Big Bear Lake, California. It began more as a counter culture movement than a serious world championship race. Today, the race is a mix of both. In Bend, the festival offered plenty of beer drinking and wild parties in addition to the hard racing. I knew I had to sign up.
Designation for each year’s hosting site is decided by some form of beer drinking or outrageous challenge held during the previous year’s race. In Rotorua, New Zealand, the location of the 2017 SSWC, a Bend coalition of cycling aficionados won the honors of bringing the event to Central Oregon for the very first time. Local cycling legends like Carl Decker (’08 SSCW Champion) and Adam Craig (’09 SSCW Champion) helped lead the charge, designing the forty-mile course. Crow’s Feet Commons owner David Markis designated the coffee and bike shop downtown as the official SSWC headquarters.
“It was really neat to see how all of this was unfolding,” Decker said. “You kind of just count on the kindness of others and for them to come through, and the community really just did a great job.”
Riders from as far as Japan, Scotland, and Australia were entertained by daily group rides through Bend’s epic scenery and trails. On Thursday night, riders rode their bikes from brewery-to-brewery and ended at Volcanic Theatre Pub in what was dubbed “Carl’s Crawl.” Friday night, an official welcoming party at Tumalo Creek Kayak & Canoe had countries like Slovenia and Canada vying for next year’s hosting location, battling through beer-drinking challenges and “nautical” endeavors.
Saturday, I joined 700 other singlespeed diehards at the starting line of the forty-mile race. From pros and legends to unicyclists and tandem racers, all the racers were dressed in costumes laden over cycling jerseys, spandex shorts and sometimes hardly anything at all. Each and every one of us was ready for the time of our lives while wearing tutus, onesies and superhero capes. Clearly, Halloween had come to Bend early this year.
With forty miles and 4,000 feet of climbing ahead of us on top of our singlespeed steeds, riders ascended in pursuit of the worldwide coveted “trophy tattoo” adorned by every winner of the event for the past twenty-three years. As we hammered along, dehydrated riders pulled into aid stations that resembled outdoor living rooms, accompanied with hookah bars, margaritas, bacon and water. I watched elite riders complete a keg stand or chug a beer before getting back on their bikes and the trail.
Grins painted with dirt and sweat spread across riders faces as they rolled into the finish line and were welcomed in by high fives and weary hugs. Defending Marathon National Champion and Red Bull athlete Payson McElveen won tattoo honors in the men’s category. Course designer Carl Decker finished in a close second place. Pro rider Rachel Lloyd took home the lifelong prize in the women’s category.
When it was all said and done, the party gathered at Crow’s Feet Common for the official award ceremony. The “branding” of the winners took center stage and live music filled the air as everyone simply celebrated finishing the race in one piece.
Almost twenty-five years later, there is no doubt that the event continues to inspire both mockeries and legends. Plan on it all happening again next year halfway across the world in Slovenia, the official hosting location for 2019. Bring your wits, your good vibes and your singlespeed.
Dennis McGregor mixes humor with colorful, whimsical notes in his paintings, writings and songs.
For a sixtysomething guy who says he’s never had a “RG”—a real gig that offers conversation around a water cooler or employer-paid benefits—Dennis McGregor hasn’t had trouble staying busy. Instead of punching a clock, he’s followed his creative impulses to build a life around painting, music, songwriting, book illustration and writing. “I’ve never had a job, but it’s on my bucket list,” he joked.
McGregor’s sense of humor is evident in the playful work he creates. His second book, You Stole My Name, published in 2017, is a series of humorous play-on-word paintings that pair an animal with the animal from which it takes its name. For instance, a parrot is coupled with a parrot fish, a cowbird sits on a cow and an elephant seal swims with an elephant. The animals are colorful and whimsical, painted in opaque water colors known as gouache.
Verses accompany each illustration. The alligator lizard’s rhyme goes like this:
“All you ever do is bite – bite all day, bite all night. I just want to do the same. That is why I stole your name!”
McGregor is largely self-taught in art and music. He dropped out of college to play acoustic guitar and violin with the band Natty Bumppo in the 1970s. After twelve years with the band, McGregor said he traded “one low-paying job for another.” For a few years, he was a self-employed graphic designer living in Southern California, until he moved to Sisters in the 1990s seeking a simpler lifestyle.
A chance meeting with Jean Wells, the prominent Sisters artist and quilter, launched McGregor’s career as a poster artist when she commissioned him to create a poster for the 1992 Sisters Outdoor Quilt Show. This led to thirteen more posters for the quilt show and then commissions from the Sisters Rodeo, Sunriver Music Festival, Crooked River Roundup and the Oregon Country Fair.
“Dennis wears many different hats and seldom goes bareheaded,” said Helen Schmidling, manager of the Sisters Gallery & Frame Shop which sells McGregor’s original paintings, prints and notecards. “He’s one of our top-selling artists, plus he’s a singer, songwriter, performer and multitalented artist,” she said.
McGregor’s art can also be viewed at Forest Service interpretive centers and in large-scale outdoor murals throughout Central Oregon. A buck jumping over the moon can be spied above the Sisters Liquor Store. In Bend, McGregor’s oversize depictions of a mule deer, bull trout and a chicken hawk adorn five-foot-tall and fifteen-foot-wide panels recently installed in the Old Mill District.
It’s no coincidence that nature plays a central theme in his art. His studio is located on five acres outside Sisters which he bought in 2005 and where he built “a humble abode and could work the land,” he said. Visitors are likely to be greeted by McGregor, sitting on a wood chair on the front porch of his hand-built studio, a guitar hanging on the exterior wall behind him and his pound dog, Hank, lounging alongside. The woodsy setting includes his home and a serpentine stack of wood that is both decorative and functional. (It provides heat to his residence and studio.)
He’s produced three albums, and his band, Dennis McGregor and the Spoilers, can be seen playing original tunes around town on any given night. McGregor’s two books (the first one, Dream Again, was published in 2013) are sold in independent bookstores throughout Central Oregon.
Not one to idle, McGregor concluded this writer’s interview by announcing that he was “itching” to get back into the studio to finish drawings for a client. He’s also working on You Stole My Name, Too, a sequel to the first book, a pond he’s digging by hand for his grandchildren and an occasional mountain bike ride “to try to stay in balance,” he said. “It all keeps me pretty happy.”
With the newly opened Cuban Kitchen, authentic Cuban flavors arrive in Bend.
Cristina Rojas sips a cafecito from a tiny white plastic cup about the size of an individual coffee creamer. Bigger than a thimble but smaller than a shot glass, you might wonder why anyone would drink such a small serving of anything. That is, until you taste Cuban espresso, an intensely sweet and bold dark brew sometimes called “poor man’s cocaine.” It’s the fuel that powers a thirtysomething couple with four children who moved from the Little Havana section of Miami to open Cuban Kitchen, infusing new flavor into Bend’s culinary scene.
“This is what keeps us going,” said Rojas, who, with her husband Chris, opened the intimate eatery in July, all but hidden amid a dry cleaner, salon and pet supply store off Century Drive. The two are turning out classic dishes based on family recipes, bringing a dash of the Caribbean to the Cascades.
At its most basic, there are the Cubanos, or Cuban press sandwiches. Savory fillings are pressed between slices of Cuban white bread in a plancha, which is like a panini press without grooves. The options—roasted pork, ham and Swiss cheese, or slow roasted pork or chicken, or Palomilla steak (thinly sliced and pounded sirloin) and sautéed onions, or sweet plantains with lettuce, tomatoes, mustard, mayonnaise and crunchy fried potato sticks—all meld lusciously. The cheese melts, the bread toasts and the result is as satisfying as a lifted embargo.
Cristina and Chris Rojas
Cristina said she continually experimented with her husband’s family recipes before finalizing the menu. For instance, whenever she went to a Miami restaurant and tasted a classic Cuban dish such as puerco asada, Cuban pulled pork, and liked the flavor, she’d adjust her recipe to emulate it. Once she and Chris decided they were going to move to Oregon to open a Cuban restaurant (Chris discovered Bend when visiting friends), they spent six weeks working at a Cuban cafe in Miami to learn tips on everything from cooking to customer service.
The result of such dedication and innovation is evident in dishes like puerco asada, slowly cooked with mojo, a marinade that combines garlic, cumin, and oregano with the flavor of the sun—the juice of oranges.
A classic Cuban-style chicken fricassee frequently sells out because the time and space involved only allows Rojas to make fourteen portions daily. She begins early, marinating the chicken, searing it, and cooking it in an eighteen-inch-wide pot with wine, peppers, tomatoes, spices and raisins. It’s served with white rice, Cuban style.
“The simple secret is toasting the rice a bit before cooking it with oil. That gives it the Cuban taste—so it’s soft, but with more texture,” Rojas said. Another side dish is maduros, glistening, sweet, soft plantains.
A cafecito, a traditional Cuban coffee
Repeat customer Tony Russell of Bend said he discovered Cuban Kitchen when it popped up as “hot and new” on his Yelp app. “I also had friends call me about it,” he said. “They’ve heard my regular complaints of ‘no good Cuban food for 500 miles,’ and felt relieved to have an opportunity to hush my cries.”
One of his favorites is the moro rice. Rojas said she employed many iterations of this essential Cuban staple, adjusting the amount of garlic and oregano in the black beans, the distinctive feature. “One of most time-consuming things was something as easy as making beans, but ratios of each ingredient are important, and I add tomato sauce, which is a big thing for the creamy texture, when you pour it over the rice, which is traditional.”
This winter, Rojas plans to offer paella on Friday and Saturday nights and soups, most likely one of black beans. That will add to the coziness of the thirty-seat space. With counter service, simple wooden tables and chairs, walls adorned with vintage Cuba travel posters, a flag, dominoes and cigar boxes, it’s as relaxed as the lifting of a travel ban.
Bend’s Next Level Burger may just have the new recipe for the fast food franchise.
Matt de Gruyter wants to change the way America thinks about its favorite food, the good ol’ burger. A former venture capital manager, de Gruyter operates Next Level Burger, an upstart restaurant chain based in Bend. His creation might just be the next big idea in fast food: a gourmet burger, hold the patty, or at least the meat. Now with seven locations, including New York and San Francisco, Next Level has ambitious goals, including opening 1,000 restaurants by 2024.
Skeptics might be quick to dismiss de Gruyter as another granola-munching do-gooder whose ideals don’t square with the consumer behaviors that bolster a $290 billion fast food industry, dominated by beef-centric businesses like McDonalds and Burger King. But de Gruyter isn’t your stereotypical vegan and his restaurant concept turns the notion of what a vegetarian restaurant can look like on its ear.
“I didn’t want another too-cool-for-school vegan concept, because there are a lot of those. I wanted to make an unabashed burger joint that would appeal to the 25-year-old who walks in and says, it’s not a burger unless it has meat, because that was me,” said de Gruyter, who, while growing up in Denver, was raised on a diet of sausage for breakfast and steak for dinner.
A reluctant experimentation with vegetarianism as a show of solidarity with his wife, Cierra, turned out to be life-changing. De Gruyter said he pledged to follow a vegetarian diet for thirty days, but realized after two weeks that he was feeling better and had more energy. He hasn’t looked back since. The new diet also opened his eyes to the lack of variety in vegetarian dining options. Instead of grumbling about the omission, he seized on the opportunity.
Next Level Burger founder, Matt de Gruyter
Walk into the company’s flagship location in Bend, which served as a proof of concept for de Gruyter and his backers, and you’re immediately struck by the familiarity of a fast-food restaurant. But it’s also clear that you’re not in your father’s fast-food joint. There are no heating lamps behind the counter, no smell of fried fat lingering in the air. Instead there’s a palette of warm pastels on the walls, punctuated with slogans like, “Burgers for a Better World.” It’s a vibe that evokes Oregon’s other popular fast casual places such as Café Yumm and Laughing Planet. But while those restaurants mix in vegetarian and vegan options with traditional proteins like chicken and beef, Next Level Burger is 100 percent vegan. That’s not to say that diners don’t have choices. Next Level is all about showing how many ways the traditional burger can be deconstructed and rebuilt, from black bean patties to mushroom and quinoa-based combinations that look and taste like their meat counterparts.
De Gruyter said Next Level Burger is about more than adding another vegetarian option for consumers. He wants to challenge how people think about burgers. If he’s successful, he will expand diners’ choices while reducing their impact on the planet.
De Gruyter doesn’t necessarily spend a lot of time trying to sell folks on the ethics of his burgers. He’s more concerned about the flavor. The same goes for his business model. Next Level Burger grew out of his own lifestyle changes, but the business plan is anchored in an understanding of the changing way that Americans are approaching their plates. Growth in sales of plant-based foods reached eight percent last year, according to Forbes, and is expected to continue growing at that rate over the next seven years as millennials tilt the scales toward environmentally informed foods and aging boomers search for healthy alternatives to traditional foods.
“I have two children who were the catalyst for reinventing the concept of the all-American burger joint, but I think there is a pent-up demand for healthier options,” said de Gruyter.
The plan was to open the first location in Portland where the market seemed ready-made for the Next Level concept, but a visit to Bend in 2013 convinced de Gruyter, whose wife was raised in the area, that Central Oregon was the perfect place to test their idea. The couple sold their house in Southern California, and de Gruyter left his private equity job in the oil and gas industry. He jokes that Next Level’s environmentally responsible business model is an atonement for his past profession where words like conservation and climate change were rarely uttered.
They packed up and moved to Bend within a few months of that initial visit and threw themselves into developing the restaurant, which opened in July 2014.
That pent-up demand was evident from day one. Customers came first partially out of curiosity but have returned out of loyalty. The same pattern has been repeated in Portland, where the concept caught the attention of an early Twitter engineer, Alex Payne, who has since become a friend and investor, helping to fuel Next Level’s rapid growth that includes locations in Brooklyn and the Bay Area.
A recent association with Amazon-owned Whole Foods Market has been a boom. Five of the company’s seven restaurants are inside Whole Foods, including its San Francisco, Brooklyn and Seattle locations. Next on the horizon for the business is a location in Austin, Texas, in the heart of burger country, slated to open before the end of the year. De Gruyter said he realizes that growing from a half dozen locations to a thousand in just a few years is beyond ambitious, but doing what can’t be done is just part of the recipe at Next Level Burger.
“We have taken a different approach, and that was always the intention and our plan from the beginning. We wanted not to be just another regional player. We want to own the reinvention of the American burger joint.”
Luthier and woodworking artist Will Nash inhabits the space where trees meet design.
Photo by Alex Jordan
In his warehouse studio parking lot, Will Nash wields a chainsaw, making strategic cuts into a hefty maple log, set on end and towering several feet over Nash’s head. Sawdust, airborne moments before, comes to rest as fine as cosmetic powder on Nash’s auburn-gray beard and black-rimmed glasses. “It will be a couple embracing,” he said, pausing before the rough column. “Right now I’m trying to find the heads.”
With just a few slashes, it’s easy to see something akin to Gustav Klimt’s “The Kiss” trapped in the splintery trunk, the medium for a commissioned sculpture that Nash had begun that afternoon. The monolith had brooded for a week outside his workspace on Northeast 2nd Street, in Bend’s burgeoning Maker’s District, before Nash began sawing.
“There’ll be an embrace, there’ll be a kiss, hopefully not a grotesque representation of love,” he said. “There’s a lot of ways to mess up a sculpture, but there’s a lot of ways to fix it, too.”
Photo by Alex Jordan
A creative commission such as this is the kind of work that Nash thrives on, and finds the most satisfying use of his talents, although he can build practically anything—grand homes from the ground up, cabinets, trellises, Jewish wedding chuppah canopies laden with lichen and moss, guitars, ukuleles and custom furniture, as well as art and functional objects.
This artist-craftsman’s life seems to have been all about wood and inspired design right from the start. He grew up in a geodesic dome on forty acres of old-growth juniper in Tumalo in the 1970s, making forts and climbing trees, which were not just play structures, but plant playmates. “I had my first conversations with trees,” said Nash, 49, who as a child could sense the memory locked in the gnarled, twisted trunks.
His mother had fled the Bay Area to realize her dream, living on the expanse of land with her five children. She built the geodesic dome home in 1976 when Nash was 7, and the hemispherical thin-shell was hailed as a way to shelter more people comfortably, efficiently and economically.
After Nash graduated from Redmond High School, he studied literature, art and architecture at the University of Oregon, did post-graduate study in architecture at Portland State University and went to work at Wieden + Kennedy advertising in Portland.
After five years, he was laid off. He began making musical instruments in a tiny, 1920s converted carriage house in Portland and teaching himself the craft, poring over books by master luthiers. He and his wife, Donna, moved from Portland to Bend in 2002 (before daughters Doris, 14, and Eleanor, 11, were born) and he began building mandolins for Breedlove Guitars here.
“It was bootcamp luthiery,” said Nash, whose rough hands reveal his preference for working with them. “I was finishing three mandolins a day, and starting three a day. I built more than 800 mandolins there.” Bend guitar maker Jayson Bowerman worked there at the time, too, and trained Nash, a quick study who single-handedly built all the company’s mandolins for a several years.
“Will’s greatest strength lies in his ability to work with clients, internalize their design intent and translate that into any style of piece,” said Bowerman. “His training as an architect gives him the ability to work with small, intricate minutia to large, architectural size work. His gestalt is the ability to use his wide-ranging skillset for anything he puts his hands to, and so it’s hard to pigeon-hole someone so versatile, who can embrace so many different styles.”
For example, he cited architectural-scale pieces such as the pulpit that Nash created for the Unitarian Universalist Fellowship of Central Oregon. Nash won the commission to create eighteen pieces for the new state of the art, LEED-certified, Unitarian building in Bend in 2014. The scope of work included the altar, minister’s tables and chairs, entry benches and information kiosk.
On the other end of the spectrum are Nash’s rocking chairs, made in the iconic style of Sam Maloof, the first craftsman to receive a MacArthur fellowship, known as the “genius grant.”
“It’s not the easiest to build, and Will mastered that chair construction, which is a high art form,” said Bowerman.
Back in his studio, Nash had completed a twelve-foot-long conference table of ambrosia maple. The surface consists of two highly polished slabs that meet seamlessly, imparting a Rorschach-test-like mirrored effect, with the natural edge of the tree on the perimeter. In a saucer-sized gap in the wood, perhaps where a tree branch had grown, Nash inlayed mussel shells gathered by the client and his daughter. Nash had crushed and suspended the shells in epoxy, smoothly filling in the void. The table base, inspired by George Nakashima, father of the American craft movement, was a first for Nash.
Yes, he loves the process of crafting, but the culmination satisfies him most. “It’s the human exchange, that’s the best part. I get to be creative, and you get something [in return].”
A former Silicon Valley engineer, Tom Tormey retired and is now a pilot for the nonprofit Angel Flights, an organization that connects private pilots with medical patients in need of transportation.
It’s a bit of an inside joke among weekend pilots that they will make any excuse to get their wheels off the ground. Need a gallon of milk? Better hop in the plane. Looking for great Mexican food? It’s just a half hour away by air. Most pilots don’t need any reason at all to pull the wheel chocks and taxi down the runway. Flying is addictive.
Tom Tormey is no different. A retired electrical engineer and self-proclaimed wannabe astronaut, Tormey started flying twelve years ago in his free time, which was limited given a demanding career that saw him bounce from one Silicon Valley startup venture to the next. His last stint, with a company that made software for electric vehicle charging stations, was lucrative enough that Tormey was able to buy his dream airplane, a twin-engine Beechcraft Baron that seats six passengers and luggage. It was the perfect plane for weekend escapes. He flew from the Bay Area to Death Valley for quick getaways. He flew to Tahoe and the Central Valley to visit family. Still, Tormey had an itch to do something more with his time in the air.
The son of a Navy pilot who flew Corsair fighters off aircraft carriers in the Pacific during World War II, Tormey wanted to fly with a purpose. When he read about Angel Flights, an organization that connects private pilots with medical patients in need of transportation, Tormey knew immediately that he wanted to be a part of it. Tormey had the plane and the skills. What he didn’t have was time. That changed when he retired and moved to Bend with his wife, less than three years ago.
Since then, Tormey’s interest has grown into a sort of obsession. He’s become one of Oregon’s most prolific pilots in the Angel Flights West fleet. By his own account, Tormey has flown more than 120 “missions” that have helped dozens of patients and families from rural areas access hospitals and specialists that are located hundreds of miles away. Some of the patients are children, some are mothers and grandmothers. Many are cancer patients who can neither afford nor handle commercial air travel.
“You get involved, whether it’s a kid or an adult. It’s hard not to. Trying to help these amazing people—amazing in the sense that they haven’t fallen apart with stress in their lives. You go the extra mile to help them,” said Tormey.
Early Angels
For an organization that has provided more than 40,000 medical flights over three-plus decades, Angel Flights maintains a relatively low profile. The small Santa Monica-based staff often must convince doctors and hospital staff that the program is not a scam. You can hardly blame the skepticism. In a me-first society, the notion that private pilots are flying patients back and forth to MRIs and oncology appointments at no cost to the patient or the hospital sounds too good to be true.
“A lot of times you knock on the door of a hospital and they find it hard to believe it’s real. They think we must be trying to sell them something, or there must be a catch. Believe it or not, it’s really difficult to give away this free service,” said Ivan Martinez, Angel Flights West Outreach and Communication coordinator.
No catch has been the philosophy from the start, when in the early 1980s a small group of Southern California pilots hatched the idea of providing free, non-emergency medical flights. In its first full year of operation, the organization provided a total of just fourteen flights.
It’s Martinez’s job to make sure that health providers know that Angel Flights exists. With chapters or “wings” in thirteen western states, word is steadily getting out. Over the past three decades the growth has been steady and sustained. Last year, Angel Flights pilots logged 4,500 flights, serving more than 1,000 patients. For these patients and their loved ones, the experience can be transformational.
Linda Dunham met Tormey three years ago. Dunham boarded Tormey’s twin-engine plane at a time when her life had been turned upside down. Dunham’s husband, Rick, had been recently diagnosed with brain cancer and undergone surgery. Doctors gave Rick fourteen months to live. His best hope was an experimental treatment offered at the University of California San Francisco (UCSF), almost nine hours away from the couple’s Eugene home by car.
To participate in the program, Rick had to be in California twice a week. Driving was time-consumptive. The couple operated a furniture store in Eugene, and time away from the business meant lost revenue at a time when medical bills were mounting. Flying commercially was both expensive and difficult, especially given that Rick’s condition included frequent seizures. Airport crowds created stress that could easily trigger Rick’s seizures. And yet, Rick needed to say yes to the UCSF trial program. “There wasn’t any other option,” Dunham said. “UCSF was the closest facility that could manage this type of brain tumor. And they were the best of the best.”
A hospital social worker offered a glimmer of hope by telling them about Angel Flights West. Desperate for help, they reached out. Tormey was one of the pilots who answered. Linda and Rick signed up for the UCSF trial program. Linda said she didn’t think they would have participated without the support of the Angel Flights program.
“We needed hope and having Angel Flights take us to these appointments gave us hope. There is no dollar amount that you can put on that,” Dunham said.
Getting the Message Out
Flying Linda and Rick was Tormey’s first Angel Flights mission. It quickly became a regular trip. Linda remembers Tormey flying most of the missions during the last several months of Rick’s care, with flights ending in 2017, after the hospital halted the experimental study. Linda and Rick looked for more options, but his health deteriorated. He died in August 2017, more than three years after his initial diagnosis.
Linda speaks publicly about her Angel Flights experience regularly. I met her at one of these talks in June. It was a meet and greet for Angel Flights pilots at the Aurora Airport outside Portland. Linda brought a framed picture of her husband, who she referred to as her “sweetie.”
Less than a year removed from his passing, the emotions were still raw. Still, she shared her story openly and graciously. It’s important that the pilots know what the flights meant to her, she said. Tormey and other pilots gave her the gift of time—time with Rick, and time to take a break from her role as a caregiver, just for an hour or two, during the plane ride. That emotional break is a common theme for Angel Flights passengers and patients.
Not to mention the fact that flying in a small plane can simply be … fun. It’s a thrill. It’s a different feeling than flying in a commercial jet—the difference between riding in the back seat of a car and riding on the back of a motorcycle.
Pam Allen is a cancer survivor who relied on Angel Flights to get her from her home in Medford to an oncologist in Portland at a time when she was too sick to drive herself. She remembers feeling desperation and fear—fear that missing even a single appointment would mean a major setback. She also remembers feeling something like joy for the first time in a long time on one of her first flights as a patient. As she soared over the Oregon landscape, her mind was, for once in long time, on something other than her illness.
“It was literally the first moment of fun that I’d had in the last twenty-five months,” Allen told a group of Angel Flight pilots in June. “That’s one of the other benefits—you give someone something fun during the worst time in their life.”
Tormey, who started a commercial air taxi business earlier this year to help cover the costs of all of his charity flying, relishes these bright little moments. He makes a point of letting patients take the “stick” for a few minutes, piloting the plane. It’s a singular thrill for many. At the end of each mission he likes to snap a photo of the passengers. He later posts them on a Facebook page that serves as a clearinghouse and log for all his Angel Flights missions. Some patients he will transport again in a matter of days or weeks. Other passengers will continue with their treatment and their lives without crossing his path again. That’s part of the job—knowing you’ve done your small part and letting go.
Dunham hasn’t flown with Tormey since Rick passed last year. Still, she remembers the patience he showed. She remembers the small things, how Tormey remembered names, the things that Rick liked, the things Rick could do and things he couldn’t.
“Some people treated Rick like a patient and some people would treat him like a friend,” Dunham said. “Tom treated Rick like a friend.”
This season, indulge in these delicious and classic Bend restaurant desserts.
You know the moment. You’re happily satiated by a meal, and then, the dessert menu arrives. The list is placed before you, suddenly the only thing you can see in the room, positively illuminated with its many virtues. Our advice? Say yes. Life is short, and Bend’s best pastry chefs know it. Here are a few of our favorite desserts from around town to enjoy this season.
Oregon Cider Berry Cobbler | The Row
Fresh off a trip to the mountain, stop by Tetherow’s The Row, the popular 19th hole of the golf resort, for a warm treat. The Oregon Cider Berry Cobbler offers something light as an alternative to the rich, heavy desserts that often come after winter meals. It’s a deconstructed cobbler, with two perfect slices of biscuit, a dollop of ice cream, and whole strawberries, blackberries and blueberries baked together in a sea of sweetness. Paired with a cup of coffee, and with flurries of snow falling around you, the dessert is a winter indulgence that will warm you up. — Bronte Dod
Donut Holes | Washington Dining & Cocktails
Perched on the corner of Mt. Washington just a short walk from Compass Park and Summit High School is Washington Dining & Cocktails,
A modern eatery that takes its casual chic queue from the surrounding NorthWest Crossing neighborhood. The menu features upscale comfort food prepared with a fine dining touch. You can keep it casual by ordering a double bacon cheeseburger with house-made pickles for dinner, or go upscale with beef tenderloin medallions with asparagus and potato hash. Whatever you order, don’t skip dessert. Washington features a classic flourless chocolate torte and crème brulee, but the most popular item is the donut holes. A ricotta-based treat that’s battered, deep-fried and then dusted with cinnamon sugar, the donuts are a great shareable item that are a little savory and a little sweet, said chef John Gurnee. “We wanted to keep a playful element to go with the casual theme and not be so elevated in our dessert menu.” We recommend pairing the donuts with ahandspun chocolate milkshake to complete the retro-casual theme. — Eric Flowers
Mozza’s Budino| Ariana Restaurant
Ariana Restaurant on Bend’s west side is consistently voted one of Central Oregon’s best fine dining locations. The luxurious interior with crystal chandeliers, chocolate colored woodworking and white tablecloths is as classy as it gets east of the Cascades. The menu equals in glamour, featuring octopus, duck and filet mignon. For dessert, tempt your taste buds with a dish that Ariana borrowed from Mozza Restaurant in Los Angeles. Mozza’s Budino is an Italian butterscotch pudding, blanketed with a layer of caramel and topped with vanilla whipped cream and a sprinkling of sea salt. The dessert is incredibly rich and best tasted in tiny dips of the spoon, perhaps alternated with sips of whiskey or champagne—just for balance, of course. My daughter and I enjoyed it straight up and still had a little leftover to take home in a plastic ramekin for her sister. Both girls declared the dessert “fancy” and the caramel the best they’d tasted anywhere. — Kim Cooper Findling
Breitenbush Hot Springs Retreat and Conference Center leaves you alone in the woods—in a good way.
There’s getting out of town, and then there’s really getting out of town. Breitenbush Hot Springs, east of Detroit, Oregon, is maybe one of the last places in the state (or anywhere?) where you can sleep in the woods with little danger of being interrupted by the irritants of civilization, technology or even your own vices.
At Breitenbush, not only is there no cell service or wifi, but you will be asked to consume an organic vegetarian diet (provided for you) accompanied by no alcohol, no tobacco and no caffeine. Meditation, yoga, ecstatic dancing, silence—these are all encouraged, as is clothing-optional soaking in one of seven outdoor hot spring-fed pools. When you don’t even need clothes, that’s about as purist as it gets.
Breitenbush has existed as a gathering place since Native Americans inhabited the area. In the 1920s, a Portlander who invented the first ice cream cone machine turned his profits into a resort on the banks of the Breitenbush River. In the 1970s, hippie culture came along and Breitenbush embraced it, as it still does today. If you want to know what Oregon was like four decades ago, it lives on in these sprightly woods. Think bell bottoms, unkempt hair and an exceptional amount of hugging.
The setting has been the stand-out feature over time. The historic lodge, meeting structures, cabins and tent-sites of Breitenbush are surrounded by a lush and magical forest cut through by the glistening Breitenbush River. Salmon swim in the river, deer wander through, eagles fly overhead.
Trails take you deeper into the woods, where even the modest crowds of a busy Breitenbush summer day fall away. Here, a mile or so up the trail, belly full of organic vegetables and marionberry lemonade, hold still and take in the silence, the scent of the woods, the thermal energy teeming beneath your feet. For a moment, these are all that matter; this is all there is. You can’t help but feel present and grateful, in that woods alone, which leads you to suspect that maybe the Breitenbush purists are on to something after all.
Emily Kirk, the evening weather anchor for NewsChannel 21, has known she wanted to be a TV reporter since she was 10 years old.
Emily Kirk reporting for NewsChannel 21
The most asked question of Emily Kirk, the evening weather anchor for NewChannel 21 (NC21), is how the greenscreen works. “The greenscreen is everyone’s favorite part,” she said with a laugh. She started at NC21 four years ago and became the evening weather anchor in 2016. It was a job she’s known she wanted since she was 10 years old, when she was moved by a TV reporters emotional storytelling on a tragic news story. “It struck a nerve,” she said, “and that’s what I wanted to do.”
She’s a graduate of University of Oregon where she produced for and anchored Duck TV, and learned the technical side of reporting. She moved to Bend with an idea of moving up to a larger TV market, but fell in love with the town and decided to stay.
The morning we talked, Kirk was on her way up to Tumalo Mountain for a hike, before coming back to town, putting on her TV makeup, and reporting the news and weather. Here’s what a typical workday looks like for her.
Sometime between 8 a.m. – 10 a.m. (depending on the day’s activities)
While everyone else is getting their hustle and bustle on at work, I’m just waking up. Breakfast is usually small: a hard-boiled egg, apple with peanut butter or oatmeal. Monday through Friday I have five to six hours in the mornings and early afternoon to do as I wish before work. Some mornings the rig is packed with skis, boots and layers and I’m off to Mount Bachelor. Other times of the year I weigh other outdoor activity options: mountain biking? A 5-mile hike along the river? Paddleboarding in the sun? Or maybe I’m being an “adult” and going grocery shopping or to the dentist. The day could include volunteering with the American Red Cross or speaking to a group of first graders answering questions like, “did you have braces?”
Today I sleepily said “goodbye” to my boyfriend as he left for work, looked out the window at the frost on the roof and debated carrying through with my plans (my cold threshold is extremely low), made a cup of coffee, loaded up the car and headed out the door.
By 11:30 a.m. I was at the top of Tumalo Mountain taking in the views of the fresh dusting of snow on the Cascades. When I got back to the car at 12:15 p.m. I decided to try biking on a trail near Tumalo Mountain. Because I’m learning and new to mountain biking I don’t go for very long by myself, so I was back in the car by 1 p.m.
At 1:30 p.m. I arrived to the Athletic Club of Bend where I did a quick weight circuit, sweated the rest out in the sauna, showered quickly (non-hair washing day – dry shampoo saves lives!), and headed to work.
2:30 p.m.: Prep Time
I go through my checklist: Dress? Check. Straightener? Check. Make up bag? Check. Snacks? Duh. (I’ll usually throw some veggie sticks, hummus, apples, protein bars, or a random leftover in my lunch bag). I head off to work in either my dirty midsized SUV (so Bend-y) or motor scooter. If I go the back way I can make it to work in less than ten minutes.
2:45 p.m.: “The Daily Grind”
First task is hair and makeup. (Yes, I do it myself. No, there is no hair and makeup person.) To be quite honest, this is my least favorite part of the day. If you’ve seen me outside of work I am typically out enjoying the elements—sunscreen all over my face, sweat dripping from my forehead or wet from swimming. I’ll drink another coffee in the dressing room while I get ready. Shout out to Strictly Organic for the work caffeine!
4 p.m.: “Now, From Central Oregon’s Newsleader this is NewsChannel 21 Fox at Four.”
By this time I should have the promo—a quick video to tease ahead to the evening shows—and most of the forecast done. I update graphics and numbers throughout the day during our newscasts at 4, 5, 6, 6:30, 7, 10, 10:30, and 11 p.m. For the next seven and a half hours I, personally, will be responsible for around forty-five minutes of ad-libbing on live television. During the early evening shows I often use Facebook Live to interact with viewers and answer questions.
My job is essentially to be the messenger. I research what the weather will bring and how it will impact our community for the next week. Whether (ha! I never make puns!) it be “good” or “bad” weather, my job is to best inform you in an efficient and effective manner to get you prepared for your day. Should I wash my car (you know every time you do that it rains, right)? Will I need my powder skis or rock skis? Are clouds going to block my view of the Cascades?
7:45 p.m.: Dinner Break
Some nights I’m at home eating quinoa and veggies followed by a walk around the neighborhood. Other nights I’m meeting friends for a bite. Or maybe Costco is calling my name for a quick shopping trip accompanied by pizza.
Tonight I met a few friends at Goodlife for some story-swapping over a delicious soul-warming garlic potato soup. We laughed about how we really should learn how to change a bike tire tube and talked about how much has changed and what has stayed the same. After hugs goodbye in the cold parking lot we vowed to “do this again soon!” and we will. Maybe a few months from now, but we will.
10:00 p.m. – 11:45 p.m.: The Late Shows
Emily Kirk in front of the greenscreen.
Back to work for another hour and a half of live TV. During this time, I make sure the forecast is still accurate, update any graphics and monitor social media. This time of night is interesting at NewsChannel 21 because only a few people are working. We have a technical director, audio/graphics person, producer, reporter, anchor and myself. At 11:35 p.m. The Tonight Show music plays and we take off our microphones, turn down the studio lights and say goodnight to each other. The hum of the cleaning crews’ vacuum says farewell as I head out the door with my trusty backpack.
Midnight – 1 a.m.: Wind Down
I’m home and begin to settle into the night. The house is quiet, dark, and sleepy, and so am I. I’ll either do the remaining dishes in the sink, watch a quick show or read. Recently, I’ve been stretching out the day’s work on the living room carpet right before I head upstairs. Then it’s time for the fifteen-minute process of removing my makeup, brushing my teeth and getting ready for bed. I fall asleep to the smell of lavender lotion and plan out the next day’s unique story according to the forecast I just gave to thousands of people. If I have plans to play outside the next day and rain ruins my plans, then I’ll also be cursing the weatherperson.