On Friday, I went to the coast for a cross-country meet. Our team first went to Cannon Beach, where we ate dinner at a teammates vacation house. Then, we travelled north to Camp Rilea, an active National Guard base, for the Seaside Challenge. We spent the night on the base, in the barracks, and awoke in the morning to several helicopters, which we had assumed were just for show, lifting off. After breakfast, we walked the course of our race, through swamps and sand dunes, and past a gate, with a sign that read "STOP! You are entering a live fire impact area DO NOT ENTER." The course, from that point on, held a few mud-pits, which I thought were probably shell craters. It was probably the biggest meet I've ever been to, with approximately 3,000 runners. After the meet, I came back to Portland and found my family had continued on with the weekend. Today, Dad had to go to the office, some sort of an IT problem, and Mom, Cy, and I went off on an excursion involving our favorite weekend activity: food. We had deli sandwiches for lunch, while shopping for the dinner Cy would be cooking tonight. By which I mean enchiladas.
The enchiladas were, as is always the case, excellent. The tomatoes were juicy, and throughout the meal we spoke Spanish, or at least tried to, though I must say we did a pretty good job of it. Dad only slipped into French a few times, and everyone else managed to hold their own. Great enchiladas, and an especially fun meal.