Beer, elk, and holy men

I'm in a little town called Forks, Washington, west of Olympic National Park near the coast of northwest Washington. There's a bed and breakfast here that while kind of overpriced IMO, it was the only thing that showed up on expedia or hotel.com for this area. So here I am. It was getting dark on the drive out here along yet another two lane highway through the forests. Just before sunset I had to completely stop on the highway because a not too bright elk was standing on the road and was in no big hurry to move when cars approached. Then later when it was fully dark, I was driving shortly before the turnoff to a Hoh Indian information center, and there was a man in what looked like some kind of light colored robes walking down the side of the highway. So at that point I was afraid I'd hit either a large, hoofed animal, a Native American holy man, or both before I reached Forks.

Yesterday and earlier today: Yes, Portland has great beer. In my brief stay I made it to a McMenamin's, Rogue, and the Laughing Labrador brewpubs. I stayed in Portland a bit longer than intended today because finding the Labrador was a bitch. For the southwest end of town, Portland seems to have brought in Boston's city planners to design the roads.

Anyway, I tried to order around five beer samples at Labrador's, and a happy, hyperactive, much tattooed and pierced bartendress saw to it that nine generous samples made there way to me. Obviously I couldn't say no. So I stuck around longer and made sure the buzz wore off before I drove for five hours. Sunday (the aforementioned bartender's actual name) was very helpful with travel tips, having lived up by Seattle for years. I was also directed to a bar down the street with a computer I could use. Finally! That was much needed since I hadn't booked tonight's lodging yet and wasn't even sure there was any available on this side of Olympic. Then there was the store called John's Market another block down the street. They have something like 900 different beers. Damn it, why do I have to be traveling and unable to haul much back with me?

----
In the news, there was another attempt to cast Lance Armstrong as guilty by association today when the NY Times published an article about former teammates confessing that they used EPO while on Armstrong's team in the '90s. This is old, recycled news. Armstrong has issued a statement in response to this article. The named teammate who confessed (the other was anonymous in the Times article) was Frankie Andreu.

Per Armstrong's statement, Andreu testified that a) he had no knowledge that I ever took any performance enhancing substance; b) had no reason to believe I had ever done so; c) had never been told by any reliable source that I had done so; d) that I never mentioned, much less suggested, adopting a doping regimen; and e) that the only observation of drugs (among the hundreds of races in which Andreu had participated with me as both a teammate and roommate on the road) (Andreu was a teammate from approximately 1993 to 2000, while Swart rode for only one year, 1995) was a single occasion taking caffeine.

So what's with the attempt to make Armstrong look guilty by association here? It's more bullshit.