7/6: But we didn’t have the time to stay with the wackoes and hippies in Eugene. The road was calling.
From Eugene we drove straight west toward the coast. Pretty soon, the landscape changed from slihtly hilly to seriously mountaineous. The road crawled in the valley, between trees and cliffs and the occational rushing springs. And in the middle of this wilderness, we came upon the cutest little diner.
The Gingerbread Restaurant. Perfect place for a midday pie and coffee.
Hanna’s pie was delicious, lemon meringue. Mine was kine of weird, strawberry something, it mostly just tasted sweet. But I only took it because Hanna wanted to try both, so it was okay.
The diner, though, and especially the waitress, were the cutest. Gingerbread really was a suitable name, built as it was with sturdy wooden logs and decorated with gingerbread cookies. Like something out of a Grimm fairytale. They must have a thing for their Germanic heritage in Oregon.
Katja Malmborg 