Inside my shoes: It’s all downhill from here

Tammy Malgesini

East Oregonian

Published on July 4, 2015 1:52PM

Less than 100 yards into the 1.7-mile Taft Tunnel, I had a severe meltdown.

The dark and damp tunnel is the first portion of the 15-mile Route of the Hiawatha, a mountain biking trail along the old Milwaukee Railroad bed in the Bitterroot Mountains of Montana and Idaho.

I could see the flashing red taillight affixed to my husband’s CamelBak approximately 15-20 feet ahead. John is a seasoned mountain biker and I had wanted this to be a fun outing we could share together. However, as I sucked on my asthma inhaler, I was seriously doubting whether I had the mettle to continue pedaling in the darkness.

I first heard about the Route of the Hiawatha from Henry Zitterkob. I told him time and injuries were beginning to take a toll on my body and impacting my ability to participate in some recreational activities.

He asked if I had heard about Hiawatha. Describing the adventure, Henry summarized with, “Even you could do it.”

I didn’t take this as a slam — Henry had been my long-time pharmacist and was aware of my various maladies over the years. 

After breaking my shoulder, forcing me to temporarily lay down my golf clubs, I started riding my bike again. My most recent experience with pedaling was riding a stationary bike after a knee replacement, so cruising around town was refreshing. 

I periodically posted on Facebook about my efforts to get in shape to ride Hiawatha. Former Hermiston resident Cathy Minnick, who now lives a short jaunt from the trail, reminded me the ride was pretty much downhill. Yeah, but if you haven’t been on a bike for awhile that’s gonna be one miserable ride.

Although it’s a gentle 1.7 percent grade, the flat areas require pedaling or you’ll tip over. Besides that, you gotta get your bum in shape to sit on a bike seat for several hours.

So, there I was — my forward progress at a standstill with a poorly lit headlamp strapped to my head.

I’m not sure how John came to the realization I was in distress, but soon he was at my side. Not wanting to put a damper on his Hiawatha experience (too late), I told him to ride ahead as I would be walking my bike through the tunnel. While I said that out loud, he evidently heard my inner voice pleading, “Don’t leave me.”

As people rode towards me in the darkened tunnel, I had two thoughts ... their lights are blinding me and I must get a brighter light.

As I plodded on, my eyes either adjusted to the darkness or my ego wouldn’t let the 75-year-old woman who just passed me show me up. I finally mounted my bike again. And before I knew it, I could see the light at the end of the tunnel ... literally.

Thanks to the encouragement of my husband, I emerged into sunlight to the soothing sight and sound of a waterfall. 

The next 13 miles, metaphorically speaking, was all downhill compared to what I’d already been through. My perseverance was treated to an exhilarating cruise, riding through nine tunnels and across seven high trestles with some of the most spectacular scenery around.

Equipped with a much brighter light, I’ve been back to the Hiawatha nearly a dozen times and look forward to my next trip.

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Contact Community Editor Tammy Malgesini at tmalgesini@eastoregonian.com or 541-564-4539.

Wee bit o’ fun during St. Patrick’s Day

Tammy Malgesini

East Oregonian

Published on March 14, 2015 12:01AM

If you’re taking a look at the entertainment calendar for ideas on what to do this weekend, you don’t need to go any further than the first listing — the Wee Bit O’ Ireland Celebration.

Heppner during St. Patrick’s Day weekend is more than a wee bit o’ fun. And there’s truly something for everyone. In its 33rd year, organizers know how to roll out the green carpet.

When I first moved to the area, I thought Heppner’s celebration was full of raucous behavior and green beer. Although there may be a bit of that, the celebration is known for its variety of activities, including family-friendly fun. But don’t be surprised if you see a few leprechauns running around.

I’ve enjoyed watching the sheep dog trials and the Welly Toss — even trying my hand at launching a Wellington boot as far as I can. But, hands down, my favorite part of the festival is the KUMA Coffee “Hour.”

With KUMA radio host Tom Melton, Father Gerry Condon and U.S. Rep. Greg Walden, R-Hood River, the stories and blarney won’t get much better. Walden, who also will hold a town hall meeting at 8 a.m., has been a regular on the coffee hour.

The representative first attended Wee Bit O’ Ireland in the early to mid-90s as a way to reach out to an area he represented in the state Senate. In 2012 — the year he was honored as the event’s grand marshal — he told an East Oregonian reporter that he continues to come because he enjoys the event.

The coffee hour’s musical entertainment is top-notch with the Irish Singers on hand, as well as Joe Lindsay, who will sing the ever-popular “Grand Marshal Song.” For those who don’t know Lindsay, he’s known for his knack in writing songs about a person’s characteristics and personality as sort of a musical roast at events. The Irish Singers, whose members hail from across the region, have been performing at the festivities for more than two decades.

And you won’t want to miss the Irish Brogue Contest and a chance to win a fistful of cash.

The coffee hour, which is really 90 minutes, runs from 10-11:30 a.m. upstairs at the Heppner Elks Lodge. You’ll want to get there early, because it always draws a full house.

There are a couple of new activities I’m hoping to check out — the tour of Talking Rocks, which includes some history of the area, and the Hurling & Gaelic Football demonstration. Although they say no experience is necessary to participate, I’ll play it safe by staying in the stands.

During my first Wee Bit O’ Ireland Celebration, someone told me everyone’s Irish in Heppner over St. Paddy’s weekend — just be sure and add the O’ in front of your name.

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Tammy Malgesini is the EO community editor. Her column, Inside my Shoes, includes general musings about life. Contact her at tmalgesini@eastoregonian.com or 541-564-4539.

Ugly sweaters ring in the holidays

By TAMMY MALGESINI

East Oregonian

Published on December 13, 2014 12:01AM

Who knew ugly sweaters were going to become all the rage?

Of course, when we got those now “vintage” items they certainly weren’t ugly — well, unless our fashion impaired fathers bought them.

I bring up the ugly sweater for a couple of reasons. One, the Hermiston Chamber of Commerce is hosting an Ugly Sweater Christmas Party. The event is Tuesday at 5:30 p.m. at Hermiston Brewing Co. Nookies Restaurant, 125 N. First St., Hermiston.

Debbie Pedro, Hermiston chamber executive director, will be attending her first ever ugly sweater party.

“I wish I would have saved some of my sweaters from the ’80s with the big puffy shoulder pads,” she said with a laugh. “I could have used one of those right now.”

However, Pedro did recently purchase a sweater that she’s going to alter for the event.

“It’s going to have embellishments on it. It will be very ugly,” she said. “I don’t know if anyone else would want to wear it.”

Those attending are encouraged to wear a sweater. There will be “very merry” prizes for the ugly, uglier, ugliest and most creative sweaters.

And another reason I bring up the ugly sweater is because I have one — a real one.

It initially came into my possession in 1992. It’s a size large, 100 percent acrylic men’s Kennington sweater. 

Two jobs ago, I managed residential programs for adults with developmental disabilities. When clients first moved in we’d go through their clothing and get rid of items that had seen better days.

It didn’t take much to determine “the sweater” was being relegated to the toss pile. Aside from the fact it was an ’80s sweater trying to make it into the ’90s, the sleeves were at least a foot too long. Seriously, even a spider monkey would need to roll them up.

Suzy Tosten, one of the group home managers, put the sweater on and did a little dance, twirling the too-long sleeves. The wheels started spinning in my head. Unbeknownst to Suzy, after she removed the sweater I rescued it.

The first time I gave it back to her was priceless. I had wrapped it up along with a couple of other birthday presents. When she opened “the sweater” Suzy didn’t initially recognize it. But I must say, her parents taught her well in being gracious in accepting gifts. 

Two months later was Christmas and would mark the second time I gave Suzy “the sweater.” Since that time, it has been passed back and forth between us in some very creative ways.

Suzy convinced a lady to wear it to an interview I was conducting. When she stood up to greet me, the sleeve swallowed up her hand. When Suzy was accepting an award at The Arc Umatilla County, it came with a box for long-stemmed roses, only there was the sweater wrapped around a single rose. Then there was the time the “unattended package” at the airport was delivered to me by the flight attendant (of course, this was way before 9/11).

Ugly sweaters seem to be gaining cult status. In addition to ugly sweater parties, I’ve seen notices for ugly sweater fun runs, ugly sweater fundraisers and ugly sweater stores.

So, look in the back of your closet, buy a cheap sweater and embellish it or get ideas on Google. Transform a simple office party into a fashion nightmare — get ugly.

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Tammy Malgesini is the EO community editor. Her column, Inside my Shoes, includes general musings about life. Contact her at tmalgesini@eastoregonian.com or 541-564-4539.

Horror flicks for Halloween

By TAMMY MALGESINI 

East Oregonian

Published on October 25, 2013 12:01AM

What better time than Halloween to kick back and watch a good scary movie.

Rather than forking out a fistful of cash at the movie theater, I suggest popping your own popcorn and renting a DVD or perusing through Netflix choices — then curl up on the couch for your own personal scare-fest.

Although you won’t flinch to the latest horror flicks, don’t fret because according to Rotten Tomatoes’ Top 100 Horror Movies, more than 75 percent of the top 100 were released prior to 2000. In fact, of the nine movies that received 100 percent on the Tomatometer, only two — No. 5 “Spoorloos (The Vanishing)” (1988) and No. 9 “The Witches” (1990) — were released since the mid-1960s.

Why give so much credence to Rotten Tomatoes? Well, my husband, John, rarely budges from his recliner to go to the show with me unless it’s received positive reviews from the tomato crew.

My suggestion of seeing the recent re-make of “Carrie” was rebuffed barely after the question left my lips. Not only did he tell me it received a big splat from Rotten Tomatoes, but a review in last weekend’s East Oregonian Entertainment page reveals the remake is “only effective in stops and starts.” That’s a far cry from the original release in 1976, which is No. 62 on the all-time list with 92 percent on the Tomatometer.

While we’re talking about the original “Carrie,” the ending of the Stephen King adaption scarred my high school boyfriend. Even though I didn’t scream like a girl, he had claw marks on his hand as I freaked out and tightened my grip.

Another one from my adolescent days would be “The Exorcist” (1973). The vision of Linda Blair’s head spinning due to demonic possession is forever embedded in my memory. I first saw the movie when I was 14 and I don’t recall if the actual show or my mom’s response when she found out I saw it was more frightening. Although it didn’t make the top 100 on Rotten Tomatoes, it did receive 87 percent on the Tomatometer.

And to finish off the trifecta of scary flicks from my school days, I present to you “The Omen” (1976). How freaky is it that not even 15 minutes into the film something happened and the screen went black at the Egyptian Theatre in Coos Bay. We were given tickets to come back. After sneaking out of the house a second time, me and my best friend and I (whose name shall not be revealed, lest her children read of her adolescent antics) returned to see the spawn of Satan’s reign of terror. (85 percent on the Tomatometer).

Other flicks receiving 100 percent from Rotten Tomato include “Repulsion” (1965), “Frankenstein” (1931), “The Bride of Frankenstein” (1935), “The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari” (1920), “The Invisible Man” (1933), “Vampyr - Der Traum des Allan Grey” (1931) and “Them!” (1954).

RT Scare Central also gives a nod to “King Kong” (1933), “Nosferatu, a Symphony of Horror” (1922), “Alien” (1979), “The Invisible Man” (1933), “Psycho” (1960) and “Jaws” (1975).

As for me, I’ll be watching “The House That Dripped Blood.” Although I rented the 1971 release a few years back, the pain medication I was taking after surgery rendered it unmemorable. However, parts of the movie must have lingered in my subconscious as evidenced by a comment I made to my husband as he left for work.

“Listen,” I said. “Do you hear it? It’s a dripping sound.”

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Tammy Malgesini is the EO community editor. Her column, Inside my shoes, includes general musings about life. Contact her at tmalgesini@eastoregonian.com or 541-564-4539.

In dogs we trust

By TAMMY MALGESINI 

East Oregonian

Published on January 15, 2013 12:01AM

I’m hopelessly in love. Although my husband John and I will celebrate 30 years of wedded bliss this September, I’m not talking about him — it’s my dog.

General, my nearly 7-month-old German shepherd, has definitely wormed his way into my heart. He can get me to do just about anything.

After having Jeter, my 13-year-old German shepherd, put down in April 2012, I told John I didn’t think I was going to get another dog. It’s tough to lose a furry friend.

Lucifer, my husband’s German shepherd, helped me through the grief process — which included lots of hugs. Several months later, I made arrangements to adopt General and make the Malgesini pack whole again.

As my body has increased in age, my joints have become quite adept at predicting the weather. I honestly think a little meteorologist was surgically implanted along with the artifical knee I had put in several years ago. Since that time, I’ve hung up my skis and have found that bears are really onto something with that hibernation thing.

General, however, doesn’t seem to recognize when the mercury dips below freezing. He still wants to go for a walk. With my schedule, it’s usually at night and dark by the time I’m able to take a stroll. General doesn’t care. His puppy dog eyes melt my heart and soon I’m bundling up like the Michelin Man and heading out the door.

After a few occasions of trying to ignore his pleading looks, I found a way to satisfy his need for exercise and my desire to stay warm. A laser pointer. Yup, I stand on the back porch and point the beam. General runs laps trying to catch the little red dot. Lucifer, who has no interest in the light, derives great pleasure in running defensive interference while his brother from a different mother chases it like a mad dog.

Additional proof that our canine kids rule the household: When we bought a new Jeep Wrangler we purchased the larger and more expensive four-door version to have more room. Also, John and I have talked for years about taking an Alaskan cruise for our 30th anniversary. That idea has been replaced with planning a trip that includes the dogs.

And the biggest indicator that love runs deep for our dogs: I’ll drink after them. This is pretty significant, as I won’t even let my friends drink from my glass or bottle. In fact, one time while golfing in the sweltering heat, my good friend Karin Gilliland asked if she was parched and dying of thirst, would I let her have a drink. I told her if she laid face-up on the ground, I would pour water into her mouth.

Just to be clear, no, I don’t get down on all fours and drink out of their bowls. But a few weeks ago I came downstairs to find General standing in my chair with his snout in my glass lapping up my Pepsi. When I told this story to a friend, she asked if I continued to drink the rest of that Pepsi.

“Yes,” I said. “He’s family.”

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Tammy Malgesini is the EO community editor. Her column, Inside My Shoes, includes general musings about life. Contact her at tmalgesini@eastoregonian.com or 541-564-4539.

Walking for a cure: ‘Celebrate. Remember. Fight Back’

Tuesday, June 19, 2012

By TAMMY MALGESINI
East Oregonian

 

I’m rarely at a loss for words. However, last week while conducting a telephone interview with Lisa Lake for a precede article about Pendleton’s Relay for Life event, the connection between my brain and mouth shut down.
Oh, I could hear what she was saying — Lisa was talking about how important it is for people with cancer to have others around them.

“People who have cancer need support groups, they need people ... it’s important to connect,” she said.

Lisa’s daughter, Erin Gray, has stage IV cancer and lives in San Diego. Because of the distance, she can’t physically be there for her daughter all the time.

What Lisa was saying didn’t merely register into my brain to type the words on my computer. Her words lingered in my heart. I’ve been touched by cancer — I think most people have. Just last month, one of my friends was diagnosed with lung cancer. She’s a tough cookie and rarely asks for help. It’s been awesome to watch people jump in to provide support and tell her, “Hey, this is what I’m going to do.” It’s what the herd does.

During Umatilla’s recent graduation, I watched Joey Creamer, one of the class’s five valedictorians, receive his diploma. As I listened to him give his speech, I knew his mama would have been proud. Jo Jo, a former co-worker and one of my good friends, died from leukemia in 2004.

Last January, I wrote about Lynn, one of my old college roomies who was diagnosed with breast cancer. After aggressive treatment, she was doing well by late fall. However, a few months later a nagging pain in her shoulder was beyond the scope of physical therapy — her cancer had metastasized to the bone and is at stage IV. Her doctor said the most she can hope for is a couple of years. She remains upbeat and hopes for a miracle.

Lisa’s daughter, too, has stage IV cancer. Diagnosed with colon cancer, it metastasized to her liver and lungs. Initially she didn’t ask for a prognosis, figuring her situation was hopeless. Now, her message is loud and clear — follow-through with recommended medical screenings since prevention is one of the greatest tools in treating cancer.

Estimated figures provided by the American Cancer Society indicate 21,370 new cases of cancer will occur in the state of Oregon in 2012. That is a staggering number.

To put it in perspective, that would be like the entire populations of Hermiston, Echo, Stanfield and a fourth of Umatilla all diagnosed with some type of cancer.

Relay for Life raises money and cancer awareness. Its focus is “Celebrate, Remember, Fight Back” — celebrate those who have beaten cancer, remember those who have lost their lives to the disease and fight back by raising awareness and money for cancer research in hopes of a cure.

When Lisa stepped onto the the track at Sunridge Middle School this past weekend, it was the first time she participated in a Relay for Life event.

“This is what I know how to do. I know how to walk,” she said. “I wish I could be there with my daughter every day, but I can’t. But I can support someone here. I can support the greater good by supporting a walk.”

I know how to walk, too. And Friday night that’s exactly what I'll be doing during Hermiston's Relay for Life event at the Umatilla County Fairgrounds.

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Tammy Malgesini is the EO community editor. Her column, Inside my shoes, includes general musings about life. Contact her at tmalgesini@eastoregonian.com or 541-564-4539.

American Express takes me everywhere

Friday, December 30, 2011
By TAMMY MALGESINI
East Oregonian
 

Here’s a tip — American Express is widely accepted across Canada. This is important because I enjoy using my American Express, specifically to earn Sky Miles.

Vacations and weekend trips always seem to be the highlight of the year. And this year was no different. I’m glad to report I didn’t require any medical treatment while visiting places afar. However, I did end up taking my husband to the emergency room in Invermere, British Columbia.

After spending several leisurely days in the quaint village of Radium Hot Springs, my husband and I decided to scout out activities in the area. We headed up to Panorama Mountain Village so John could tear up the trails on his mountain bike.

It was a great day. “Was” is the key word. After meeting for lunch, John headed back to the trails and I found a comfortable spot to people watch and read my book. Then I received some garbled text message from John. Then another, “massive pain.”

I headed to the truck to find John writhing in pain. He did an endo on the trail and landed on his shoulder. He said he needed to see a doctor — this coming from the man who never meets his insurance deductible.

We got some ice and headed down the mountain. As I drove the 13 twisting and turning miles to the hospital in Invermere, John and I pondered how they would deal with United States citizens seeking medical care in Canada. Canadians are enrolled under a socialized medical plan and our friends to the north guard their Provincial Health Insurance cards like I guard my American Express.

We soon found out the answer to our ponderings — point of service. We were required to pay before leaving. More than $800 later, I tried to look at the bright side.

“At least I get some Sky Miles out of the deal,” I said with a laugh.

With a complicated sling shoulder-stabilizer thingie, our vacation plans changed drastically. John wouldn’t be riding his bike and I would be driving the truck.

Coming highly recommended by the ER doctor, John and I headed toward Canal Flats to Lussier Hot Springs, some primitive springs located in a remote location.

To get there we had to drive on forestry roads near the western boundary of Whiteswan Lake Provincial Park. The brochures said nothing about the road being treacherous, much less the fact it narrows so much on the last stretch that it allows only one-way traffic. Oh, and the little turnouts leave you virtually hanging on the edge of the Lussier Gorge — with nowhere to go but down. Way down.

By the time we reached the hot springs, I needed to pry my hands off the steering wheel. Ah, but my tension was soaked away — that is until I had to drive back to civilization. Next stop, a massage therapist.

Good thing I had my American Express — I never leave home without it.
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Tammy Malgesini is the EO community editor. Her column, Inside my shoes, include general musings about life. You can reach her at tmalgesini@eastoregonian.com or 541-564-4539.