Boardman

It's been a pretty amazing day. Amazing, that is, if you're a big Oregon nerd like I am. I spent the last couple of days trying to get a good Interstate 84 mix going on my iPod full of good predictable travel songs from the likes of Booker T and the MGs, Jackson Browne, Old 97s, Magnetic Fields, and all the other usual suspects. Laurie and Henry stayed home to mind the new chicks so I got to roll down the windows and blast some vintage Talking Heads through downtown Arlington. The thing I love most about I-84 is that there is such a defined line between the wet side of the state and the dry side (It's about 2 miles west of Mosier). And the thing I love most about the dry side of the state is that it makes me feel like I'm really traveling. Clatskanie and Creswell are all fine and good, but they do kinda have the same general terrain and flora of home, so it's incredibly liberating to see twisted junipers and abandoned lines of barbed wire decorated with years of tumbleweeds like a Christmas tree that you never take down.
I pulled into Boardman and checked into the Rodeway Inn, which is within potato-throwing distance of the freeway. Again, the family stayed home this time or I would have definitely checked out the River Lodge and Grill. Although I've been through Boardman at least a hundred times, this is honestly only the third time I've stopped here--and the first two times were because this happens to be where whatever jalopy I was driving decided to break down. So it was nice to finally purposely visit. I called Mayor Chet Phillips, and he drove right over to autograph our map.
I want to tell the story of meeting Mayor Phillips kind of backwards because I think it will be more interesting that way. The last thing he said before he left was, "You're a pretty tactful democrat for coming to Boardman to talk politics." I figured he was half-right. But it's not so much that I'm tactful, it's just that I can understand the frustrations of the eastern 2/3 of our state when laws get passed by the majority of Oregon's population that just don't make sense in rural towns in the middle of the desert. And I'd love to give an example, but I'm getting to this weird level of casualness in conversation with these Mayors that I'm beginning to think that what we talk about is sorta off-the-record. But I will say this: When it comes to cougars and coal plants, I think it would do a lot of us wet-siders (people from "the state of 503" as Mayor Phillips would say) good if we walked a mile in their boots. Or maybe drove a mile in their gigantic Ford F-350 King Cabs. Because it's true that everyone out here drives those things. I drive an '07 Nissan Versa and the maid at the hotel looked at it like it was a spaceship.
"On the river and on the way" is the official motto of Boardman, which is pretty genius since both sentiments are completely correct. The entire city of Boardman was relocated in the late 60s after the John Day Dam was being built. Hence the lack of any sort of cohesive downtown core. I find it absolutely amazing that we were displacing entire towns for hydroelectric power just 40 years ago. That whole concept seems so WPA or Chinese. Founded by Sam Boardman (whom I believe invented the concept of the rest area?) in 1903, the Columbia River inundated the original townsite just as the freeway was being built and PGE started erecting those modern power lines we're used to seeing. So there are actually three distinct sections of Boardman that are divided by I-84 and the 600-foot PGE easement. The oldest building in town must be the Longbranch Saloon (grilled cheese and tomato soup: $4), but I'm basing that solely on the width of the timbers supporting the roof.
If you come to Boardman (and you should), check out Boardman Marina Park. It was 57 degrees and partly sunny here today and I had the entire park to myself. I had a couple of leftover Session Lagers left in the back of the car and it was such a nice evening that I built a little fire underneathe a willow tree and enjoyed the sunset over the Columbia--just 40 or 50 feet above Original Boardman. I call it O.B., and it's the way you should be. They should totally change their motto. Yes, I'm ending this post with a mid-eighties tampon commercial reference.
31 down, 211 to go.