You’re going where today? Eugene, Oregon
I DROPPED into Eugenelandia – a real place, not one played on TV – and what did I see? Characters sporting Gore-Tex jackets or fleece vests paired with running pants, a sensible uniform for a city nicknamed “Track Town, USA.” On their feet, they wore hiking boots, even if they didn’t have immediate plans to trek up Mount Pisgah, or sneakers, so they were ready to fly on Pre’s Trail, a four-mile tribute to track star Steve Prefontaine. ( Nike is the predominant brand because of its ties to the town and University of Oregon. Eugenelandians just wear it.) I noticed that gluten-, dairy- and egg-free baked goods seemingly grow on trees, and that the Willamette River appears to flow with craft beer, pinot gris and locally roasted coffee. There were dogs and ducks (the mascot kind) on streets and in stores. I petted both.
In Eugenelandia, I discovered a diverse culture – counter/ mainstream, team sports/ outdoor adventures, vegan/ carnivorous – that moves in mysteriously harmonious ways. I could stay in one lane (a visit to the Jordan Schnitzer Museum of Art and a sophisticated meal at King Estate Winery) or veer from side to side (dance class at Ballet Fantastique followed by canned beer and pinball at Blairally Vintage Arcade). Despite its rich source material, Eugenelandia has not earned its own show - yet - but Eugene has appeared in film. The most well-known flick in its oeuvre is National Lampoon’s “Animal House,” which was filmed here in 1977. I saw several of the film sites while walking around campus - in my Nikes.
In Eugenelandia, I discovered a diverse culture – counter/mainstream, team sports/outdoor adventures, vegan/carnivorous – that moves in mysteriously harmonious ways.
• Eugene Ale Trail
On the Eugene Ale Trail, discerning imbibers earn prizes for what comes naturally to them: Drinking craft brews and ciders. Collect a stamp from eight out of 21 breweries and cideries along the route, and win a growler. Stop by the Brewers Union Local 180, in nearby Oakridge, for a bonus gift - an English- style pint glass. Or visit all the spots, including Viking Braggot Company ( known for its honey-based beer) and Alesong Brewing & Blending (recognised for its barrel- aged brews), and score a silver metal cup. Those with limited time or low metabolic rates should follow the Distillery Trail, which requires only three proofs of attendance. No peer pressure: You don’t need to drink to play. • Ballet Fantastique
Even if you have more in common with a wooden nutcracker than a sugarplum fairy, you can still trip the light fantastic - emphasis on tripping - during a drop-in lesson at Ballet Fantastique. The professional dance company invites amateurs to plie at its barre and balance across its studio floor. During the 90-minute class, instructor Jessica Jaye Mackinson taught us to chasse, saute, ronde de jambe and grand battement, a fancy French word for a threesided kick. For the finale, we performed a pas de bourree, glissade and grand jete. While the other students bowed for the audience, I picked up the imaginary roses thrown at my gym-socked feet. • Mount Pisgah Arboretum
At the 209-acre Mount Pisgah Arboretum, nature runs rampant on an abandoned dairy farm latticed with oaks, firs, prairie grasses and other Willamette Valley flora. Show your support for the native vegetation by picking the blackberries, the invasive-species kind, and hiking trails that wriggle through eight ecosystems. Exhibits in the wetlands, incense- cedar and oak woodlands areas explain the attractions from the ground (millipedes) up (old- growth trees). And while tree-huggers are welcome, wildlife-kissers should be cautious. “Don’t lick the rough- skinned newts,” warned August Jackson, an interpretation coordinator. “They are poisonous.” • Cascades Raptor Center
Spoiler alert: The sagas of the 41 residents at the Cascades Raptor Center all end happily, but the circumstances that landed the birds at the rehab and education facility . . . well, hang on to your hankie. Aeolus, a bald eagle, lost a wing tip to a power line or fence. Anu and Dakini, white-tailed kite siblings, were orphaned after their nest tree was chopped down. Pip, a peregrine falcon, arrived at the on- site hospital with a fractured wing and required two mouthto-beak resuscitations during surgery. Despite their rough starts, the birds of prey are now thriving in their new home and workplace, where they perform ambassadorial duties. “We view these birds as our feathered coworkers,” Education Director Kit Lacy said, before entering an enclosure to feed her officemate a mouse snack. • Eat
At Off the Waffle, let your id - not your ego - order for you. Sure, you can play it safe with the Original, a plain Liege waffle made of brioche dough and Belgian pearl sugar. Better yet, ditch your self- control for the Goat in the Headlights (chevre, avocado and two sunnyside-up eggs), Get Figgy With It (figs, goat cheese, bacon, maple drizzle) or BBBMB, an ampedup version of the BMB with six bacon strips instead of two and twice the havarti. You also can build your own Liege with such toppings as pork belly, whipped cream and chocolate sauce. Feel free to name it after your truest self. • Izakaya Meiji
Izakaya Meiji is a little bit country-western and a lot Eastern. The dining and drinking establishment is modeled after a Japanese gastropub but with a Nashville playlist and artfully neglected decor. (A server pointed out a painting by the owner’s mom “of some drunk guy she knew.”)
Diners order small plates that highlight such Land of the Rising Sun specialties as shiokara (fermented squid guts), kushiyaki (explained as “skewered things”) and onigiri (nori-wrapped rice balls). With 100-plus bottles of whiskey and sake on offer, the bartenders often scale a ladder to reach the higher- altitude booze. After 11pm, the menu switches over to the dark side; the Ramen Shop is now open for slurping. • Sweet Life Patisserie
A sign frequently seen in the pastry cases at Sweet Life Patisserie: Gluten-free, egg-free, dairy-free. “Eugene is known for its alternative diets,” said Catherine Reinhart, who runs the bakery with her sister, Cheryl. “We were ahead of the curve on gluten-free.”
The hyphenates don’t detract from the decadence. GED-free examples include German chocolate cake with a coconut pecan filling, pumpkin cranberry walnut cupcakes and chai spice cheesecake. The pantolerant have plenty of options, too, including whoopie pies with rotating cream interiors; the Josephine, a dolled-up Napoleon with vanilla custard and berry puree; and an eight-layer tiramisu cake that requires extra-long incisors to eat. • King Estate Winery
Diners at King Estate Winery don’t have to ask where the wine came from; the answer is out the window. The country’s largest biodynamic vineyard opened its restaurant in 2006, serving French- accented Pacific Northwest cuisine in a hilltop dining room. You can start with a tour of the winemaking operation, which specialises in pinot gris, or a flight of five “library” wines at the tasting bar.
The next course - solid food for brunch, lunch or dinner - celebrates Oregon’s bounty. Much of the produce comes from the estate’s garden and orchard, and the proteins hail from neighbouring farms. Though salmon is always in fashion, the most popular dish is the cheddar-bacon burger and fries, described in kingly terms as “truffled Burbank potato frites.” • Passionflower
Passionflower opened as a floral shop 24 years ago but morphed into “a naturebased lifestyle store with a maximalist vibe,” said owner Jewel Murphy. Tables spill over with velvet pumpkins stuffed with crushed hazelnuts, socks covered in lemurs and earrings made of ukulele parts. A mad entomologist’s corner contains exquisite butterflies and beetles in shadowboxes, and a salt lick offers flavored salts and salted caramels by Jacobsen Salt Co., which harvests its mineral from the Oregon coast. To honour the store’s origins, landscape your own terrarium: You design, and the staff constructs. • Will Leather Goods
Will Adler, of Will Leather Goods, entered the accessories (and handheld food) game in 1981, when he sold rainbow-hued cotton belts (and chilli dogs) in Venice Beach, California. Eight stores later, including the Eugene outpost, which is housed in a 1940s boxcar, Adler is still selling the Gunner Belt but with a new buckle: A metal slider with his signature cow stamp. — WPBloomberg