One fine summer's day last summer I was driving back from a family reunion at Wallowa Lake. While driving back home along I-84, I stopped to gas up in Boardman, OR and I looked up to see a giant smiling hamburger painted on the side of a restaurant, as well as the words, "Home of the Bozo Buger!" The smiling hamburger made me smile and I thought to myself, "I'm not hungry now, but someday I will be and I will have to come back and inquire of this 'Bozo Burger.'"
Summer faded into fall and soon came winter. One rainy Tuesday my co-worker, Andrew, said to me, "We need to take another random roadtrip for hamburgers like we did last September when we went to Redding, CA for some In-N-Out Burger." I told Andrew that I had just the place in mind: The Bozo Burger in Boardman, OR. Andrew was intreagued by the Bozo Burger, so we put in our vacation notices and began to formulate our adventure.
A few weeks later, we met early in the morning at the office and were quickly on our way as the anticipation of the roadtrip flooded our minds. As we came into Portland, I thought I'd surprise my cousin/friend, Andrea, with a phone call to see what she was doing. She lives on the east end of Portland and I knew it would be a long shot that she would be available, but I tried anyways. Upon making the call, she said she had the day off from work. I asked if she would like to take a roadtrip for some hamburgers; her response, "I'll change out of my pajamas." Within 20 minutes we were at her place. We got some water, I played a few songs on her guitar and then we were on our way.
The open road that stretched east along the Columbia River Gorge beckoned our arrival. With the sun hanging high in the sky and a fair westerly wind to our backs, we journeyed through the rocky terrain and to our first stop: Stonehenge. A replica of the English monument perched atop a hill on the Washington border, right across from Biggs Junction. Legend has it that the original Stonehenge was a place for ceremonial sacrifices. To our knowledge, it was a theatrical stunt gone horribly wrong by the 80s mock rock group, Spinal Tap. We also saw a tombstone for Samuel Hill, who was a businessman, laywer, and railroad executive during the early part of the 20th Century. Apparently we were in Sam Hill country and we could now genuinely answer the old question, "What in Sam Hill is going on?" Our answer: "Not much."
After Stonehenge, we briefly backtracked along the Washington border to the Maryhill Museum, a onetime mansion built by Sam Hill at the urging of Queen Marie of Romania in 1914. Upon our arrival, we were met by the loud cawing of many peacocks. Several of them walked up to us and showed off their vibrant plumage. We never did go inside the museum as it was a costly ordeal, so we contented ourselves with pictures of the Gorge. We saw a lamppost that was in honor of Don, who "Lit the path for so many." We never did find out who this Don character was or what path he lit.
We moved on from the museum and toward our destination. After many miles worth of concrete, occasional sightings of big horn sheep, and countryside dotted with giant windmills, we arrived in Boardman and I saw that old smiling hamburger once again. It made me smile just like it had the previous summer. We went inside and placed our order. I related to the locals our story of how I had seen the Bozo Burger last summer and that we had come that day from the distant town of Eugene to partake of the delicacy. They received us warmly and we had a wonderful time talking with them.
Finally the Bozo Burgers were served. It was the moment of truth to see if the drive had been worth it. I must say, the Bozo Burger is the real deal! An old-fashioned classic with lettuce, tomatoes, onions, real bacon, cheese and special sauce. It was a delectable delight! We sat for awhile, enjoyed more conversation with other patrons and then drove home satisfied. We left with the feeling of great accomplishment that day. It was indeed a roadtrip of roadtrips.
"How little a thing can make us happy when we feel that we have earned it."
- Mark Twain