Portland Road Trip

          My husband John was going on a business trip to Portland, Oregon on Monday and I tagged along. When we arrived in Portland we stopped for a dim sum lunch at House of Louie in Chinatown. It was recommended to us years ago by a guy pumping gas into our car. Afterwards, we checked into our motel where I picked up a brochure about Fabric Depot, and then dropped John off.

While he was at a scientific conference, I discovered and explored one of the largest fabric stores in the US. Over the years, I had visited Fabric Depot’s booth at the Sewing & Stitchery Expo in Puyallup. This was my chance to see their actual store. It was “meant to be” since Fabric Depot is located at the corner of SE 122^nd Ave. and SE Stark Street. My I-phone navigated me to the right spot.

I wasn’t prepared for the full impact of this store when I walked through the doors. For the first time in my life, I was overwhelmed by a fabric store. One and a half acres of fabrics stretched as far as my eyes could see and beyond: 11,000 quilting cottons, 2,000 home decorator fabrics, fashion and bridal fabrics, notions, crafts, and yarn! There was a huge sale going, 20% off of most of the fabric! Where is a girl to start?

       Three rows in, I started loading bolts of batiks into my basket. A lady walking by on one of the main aisles glanced over at me and said, “I’ll take one of each.”

       "Exactly!” I agreed.

       “But I don’t know where I’d put them all.”

        I laughed and said, “I’ll think of something later.”

        She asked if it was the first time I’d been to the store. I guess that was obvious. I told her that I am from Puyallup, and to clarify added, near Tacoma, Washington. She needed no clarification. She knew Puyallup because she’d been to the Sewing Expo. My instant friend interviewed me on the spot. Was I a beginner quilter? How long had I been quilting? Do I belong to a guild?  I guess I gave the right answers because then she gave me a quick tour of the store.

         She taught me a quick lesson that she’d learned recently at a seminar showing me a non-slip 2” ruler and telling me to sort scraps into lights and darks as you go so they’re ready for future quilts. Then she pointed me to a window to sign up for Fabric Depot’s email. That way they’d notify me of even bigger sales—40% off, send coupons, and of course I could always shop online. She apologized to me because she’d already used her 35% off coupon or she would’ve given it to me and then she left me to my own devices.

         

I had truly hit the mother lode! When my basket teetered at its top capacity, I carefully pulled up to the cutting table. The lady cutting my fabric was also helpful and while she measured out the yards of gorgeous, name brand fabric we chatted about many things. One of the topics we covered was a detailed debate about the usefulness of a Kindle. She just about had me convinced to abandon paper books and go digital.

         At the checkout I watched the discounts come off. There was an additional hidden sweet discount---Oregon has no sales tax, compared to 9.5% in Tacoma. My bags fit in the trunk of my car with room to spare.

         I turned right around and went back in to their Outdoor sale. My tour guide friend had advised me not to miss the bargains out there—50-60% off—especially if I was looking for fabric for quilt backing. My basket wasn’t overflowing for round two, but I did get some goodies. One was a fabric that my quilting buddy, Carol, and I have been looking for everywhere. I texted Carol, who said she’d only been able to find it online in Canada. That bolt got an honored place in the basket.

Mystery fabric found!

          At the cut table, that gal told me that celebrity quilters from other countries shop at their store on a regular basis, buying up massive amounts. I could see why. She told me to come back in a couple of weeks for the 40% off sale. I think I’ve got enough fabric to hold me for quite some time, but I can see a yearly pilgrimage in my future.

           My phone rang breaking the spell. It was John asking where I was. I had told him I was going to Fabric Depot and then Powell’s bookstore. I had totally lost track of time. I think I was in a fabric bliss time warp for three or four hours!

           The rest of the trip paled compared to my Fabric Depot field trip, but for those of you who aren’t fabric addicts, here are other highlights of our trip to Portland. Following the fabric frenzy, I met John at Lloyd Center, a mall near our hotel. There’s an ice skating rink in the center of it. We watched three young ladies wind up and land lutz’s, toe loops, and other jumps. They made it look easy. I wouldn’t be surprised to see them in the Olympics. Olympian Tonya Harding learned to skate on that rink.

The next morning we headed toward Powell’s City of books, looking for breakfast along the way. We were early enough to find street parking and lucky enough to find Blue Star Donuts on the corner just steps away.

The inside was all white, sleek and contemporary. The counters were filled with customers, eating donuts and sipping coffee. There was enough of a line for us to have time to make up our minds. I asked for a Key Lime/Lemon filled donut and John got a Blackberry filled donut covered with peanuts. Mine was as light as a cloud. It was perfection.

After reading their huge chalkboard sign about the purity of their ingredients, it was easy to understand why their donuts rated at the top of my donut list. I’m a bit of a donut connoisseur.

         After our breakfast of champions, we set out for Powell’s City of Books. We’ve been there many times before and it’s just not a complete trip to Portland without stopping at Powell’s. 

     They aren’t kidding when they call it a city. It takes up an entire city block with over a million volumes on their shelves. We were two of the 6000 people who stop in each day to buy or browse for a book. What is it with Portland having these massive book and fabric stores? Seems more Texan to me.

Skimming the titles stacked up to the ceiling is one of the major reasons I’m still balking at getting a Kindle. It’s hard to teach an old book shopper, new tricks. I’m notorious for getting lost in time in bookstores and libraries, but there was another place I wanted to visit before we headed home.

        We lugged our Powell’s book bag back to the car and made it back with minutes to spare before our 90 minutes parking expired. The shop right in front of our car was named Cacao Drink Chocolate. I’m always up for chocolate. This shop had chocolate from around the world, including the best premium solid chocolate bars from only small producers, as well as select chocolate from the best local chocolatiers and North American makers. They also had house-made drinking chocolate.

        The “barista” helped us order. I was going to get a medium sized drink, but she said that most people just get a shot because it’s very rich. I chose a Traditional Cacao Premium Cinnamon Drinking Chocolate, and John got a shot of Cacao 5-Spice Premium Drinking Chocolate. As I opened the car door I finished the thick, almost pudding-like shot and told John that I needed another one.

         I walked back into Cacao Drink Chocolate, ordered another shot and asked the lady what I needed to buy to reproduce that Cinnamon Drinking Chocolate at home. She set me up, and also told me how to get to the Rose Garden, our next Portland destination.

         The International Test Rose Garden is not far from downtown. It sits high up on a hill above the City of Roses with Mt. Hood in the distance framed by skyscrapers and roses.

   

       The garden is the oldest testing ground for new roses and was started in 1917. More than 10,000 different varieties of roses cover 4.5 acres. It was peaceful and serene strolling through the grounds.

It seemed that each rose we saw was more beautiful than the last.

         It was time to start the two and a half hour drive home. I’d looked at the map and the route to I-5 seemed straightforward—go over the Burnside Bridge and then hang a right onto north I-5. John’s I-phone didn’t think it was that simple. It kept re-calculating us in circles. I was trying to get my I-phone’s GPS going. We were frustrated. John veered onto a side road looking for a place to pull over and study the map to get us back on track.  

         That’s when I looked up, cue weird music, and saw a pink building sporting a sign that said Voodoo Doughnut. “Pull over here! Voodoo Doughnut is famous! I can’t believe we found it by accident!”

It was a hot Tuesday afternoon and the bakery was almost empty, amazing because we could see how they had bike racks set up to weave long lines of customers through, past the poster of Johnny Cash that said “Cash only.” So, there we were, ordering doughnuts for the second time in one day.  We left with a dozen, including Portland cream doughnuts, toasted coconut cake doughnuts, bacon maple bars, and the weirdest one a Mexican hot chocolate doughnut that was really spicy.

We did finally find I-5, but I felt much better knowing that if we didn’t, we wouldn’t starve with that pink Voodoo Doughnut box safely stowed on the back seat.

People make fun of Portland for being a throwback, hippie kind of town that’s hyper environmentally conscious. In fact, there’s a show on IFC named Portlandia that is dedicated to poking fun at Portland, and I’ve been guilty of taking a few jabs myself, but . . . truthfully, I really liked it there. Everybody was genuinely friendly and I felt comfortable with the Portlandians. Recycling is second nature to me. Besides, what more could I ask for? Possibly the largest fabric store AND book store in the US, no sales tax, a chocolate boutique, rose gardens, Mt. Hood, and doughnuts, Portland sounds good to me!

Laura Keolanui Stark is settling down with a good book from Powell’s and a cup of premium hot cinnamon chocolate. The doughnuts are long gone! She can be reached at stark.laura.k@gmail.com.