Drinking Whiskey with Lewis and Clark

            According to Tripadvisor.com, the Columbia Inn in Astoria, Oregon, is the worst hotel in the city. Ranked #8 of 8, it averages 2 out of 5 stars, with over half of the reviewers rating it as either “poor,” or “terrible.” No one has ever rated it “excellent.” But, in its defense, there is no other lodging in town that offers a cheaper room, or a closer walk to the bars. Plus, can you really trust anyone on the Internet anyhow? (Except for me, you can definitely trust me.) For example, the headline of a post written by “orandny” reads: “It’s a room and that’s all.” What were you expecting “orandny?” You rented a room! And that’s all you rented! Did you think it was going to come with your own personal butler? It’s apparent that “orandny” can’t be trusted. I mean, what kind of name is “orandny” anyhow? Another post simply says: “Ughhh!” Ughhh? I’m not exactly sure what that means, but it sounds exotic—I book a room for the weekend.

            It’s early evening on a Friday night when we arrive at the Inn and half of the place is under construction. Workers stand next to their pickup trucks, outside their make-shift work tent, sipping on beers and speaking in a language that isn’t the one I’m fluent in—just like being in the Caribbean! There are no other vehicles in the parking lot, which means that we’re the only paying customers in the entire place. Now, I don’t frequent many hotels, but I’m pretty sure that’s a good sign. Before I even open the door I’m already giving this place at least two stars!

Our room is newly remodeled and as far as I can tell, we could be the first people to stay in it since the renovation. The bathroom is cleaner than the one at my house; the television is nicer, with more channels; and from the look of the sheets, we won’t even need those sleeping bags in the trunk of the car. And bonus! The next day we are treated to an early morning wake-up call, with the beautiful melodies of a circular saw intertwined with the rhythmic sounds of nails being hammered into drywall. How did they even know that I wanted to get up at 8am on a Saturday morning following a night of heavy drinking? Looks like somebody just got bumped up to three stars!

My girlfriend thinks I’m treating her to a vacation on the coast, but in reality, I just needed a ride to Fort Clatsop to visit Lewis and Clark’s winter camp. (Only joking, Honey, Happy Birthday!) When the Corps of Discovery reached the Pacific Ocean in November 1805, the Columbia Inn did not yet exist (though some reviewers on Tripadvisor.com are under the assumption that it’s in fact much older), so Lewis and Clark and their men were forced to find other accommodations. Unfortunately, the Holliday Inn and the Red Lion were completely booked for the Northwest Fur Trading Expo, forcing the Corps to build their own hotel, the luxurious Fort Clatsop.

The dimensions of the entire fort are only 50 feet by 50 feet (about half the size of a basketball court), and at first glance, it doesn’t look like much. It reminds me of a giant version of something I would build out of Lincoln logs as a child. But when you consider the fact that the entire structure was built in about 3 ½ weeks—using primitive tools, by today’s standards—then it suddenly becomes a lot more impressive. With five total rooms, each containing tables, chairs, bunk beds, and a fireplace, Fort Clatsop would have definitely received a five star rating if Tripadvisor.com existed in 1805. But when you take into account that the small structure housed 31 men, one woman, and a baby (which, by the way, would make an excellent title for a sitcom) the fort suddenly becomes a lot less luxurious. In fact, it makes me feel rather relieved that I get to return to the Columbia Inn, whose rating has just climbed to four stars.

My girlfriend thinks that we’re going out to the bars to celebrate her birthday, but in reality, I’m drinking out of respect for Lewis and Clark, because they couldn’t. It’s not that they didn’t want to drink—in fact, most of the men were heavy drinkers, including Captain Clark—it was just that they ran out of their 120 gallon supply of whiskey long before they reached the Pacific Ocean, forcing them to remain “on the wagon” until they returned to St. Louis the following summer. A rather impressive feat, if you ask me—I’ve traveled across the United States twice by bicycle, but never in my adult life have I gone that long without drinking! So, since Lewis and Clark spent the entire winter in Astoria without drinking a drop of alcohol, tonight I will make up for it, in their honor, of course.

I drink a bottle of Miller, and chase it down with a 22 oz IPA and a plate of deep-fried Calamari. I follow that up with two 16 oz Fort George IPA’s that were brewed with coffee—to really kick the night into overdrive. Then I switch to the Corps’ drink of choice, swallowing down a whiskey sour and then sipping on an old fashioned. The brewery doesn’t serve hard alcohol, so I settle for another 22 oz IPA and a baked calzone. I return to the liquor, drinking two whiskey and Cokes while singing along to Shaggy at a tiki bar. And just when I should be calling it a night, I head to the gas station to grab a six pack and a bag of some strangely appealing snack called barbequed golden rings. And then…

I wake up with a monster trying to dig its way out of my stomach. I rush to the bathroom and hover over the toilet, seeing how far I can stick my finger down my throat. Just when a day’s worth of fun begins to escape from my body, something occurs to me: in the middle of the night, when you’re violently throwing up, isn’t every toilet, in every hotel, just about perfect? You might even say, “Five stars.” So, if you’re ever in Astoria, Oregon, and you need a place to stay (or a toilet to use), I highly recommend the Columbia Inn. In fact, it just received its very first “excellent” rating on Tripadvisor.com.