I decided I should get to the bottom of this Portland-Texas feud. Loyal Scaiaholics know I travel to SuperOregon each year for the Pendleton Round-Up.

But last year’s trip was canceled. I was excited to return this year but less excited to sit next to someone on the airplane. The woman in the seat next to me had a fit of wet, hacking coughs right after takeoff. The flight attendant even brought her some water.

“I just had a COVID test,” she explained. “So that’s not it.”

But that got me to thinking: I’m vaccinated. I’d sort of like it to be COVID because then I wouldn’t get whatever she’s got.

But all was well the rest of the flight, and I was greeted heartily when I landed in Portland.

“You’re coming from Dallas, aren’t you?” the man at the rental car counter asked.

“Does my reservation have my flight on it?” I replied, answering his question with a question.

“You mask gives it away,” he said.

“Oh, I’m wearing a Dallas Mavericks mask,” I realized when I saw my reflection in the plastic divider at the desk. “That explains why a woman yelled, ‘Go Mavs!’ at me in the terminal.”

I had plans for dinner, but I stopped at a drive-thru for lunch on my way out of the airport. After all, I was only going to be in Burgerville for a few days [More on restaurant chains in the Pacific Northwest shortly].

I hadn’t yet taken off my mask.

“Are you from the future?” the guy at the window really did ask. I did not realize until then the Mavs’ logo looks like it’s from the future if you’re not particularly into professional basketball.

Since I had a few hours to kill, I decided to drive to Astoria for some reason. Astoria is a nice town, nothing like Kindergarten Cop or The Goonies make it out to be. But this restaurant name is a bit misleading.

If this is a steak and seafood outlet, should the name be “Bull ‘n’ Haddock”?

At dinner, an associate explained Pig ‘n’ Pancake had been a local chain on the Oregon coast for decades.

I made my way to SuperOregon in the morning, passing a church with a clear message.

I had put off booking my ticket to make sure the Round-Up would still go on as planned, but even the Lord thought it was a good idea.

They did have signs at the arena that masks were required, but few people were wearing them. If you wear a bandanna in Pendleton, Oregon, people will think you’re about a rob a stagecoach.

That wouldn’t stop me from chiding the bulls for not wearing a facial covering, though. The bull didn’t think it was funny. He wouldn’t even look me in the eye.

I should say it wouldn’t stop me as long as the bull was safely in a pen surrounded by a fence. Even the cows showed they had cabin fever. The wild cow milking event featured a cow knock a cowboy over with a photographer intervening by lining up the perfect angle for his shot.

Everyone was okay in that case, but one associate pointed out the cows can get quite insistent if they don’t feel like being milked.

Listen, cows, we all have cabin fever. We may feel divided, but listen, even Portland is backing off its plan to ban travel to Texas. And with determination, I can set a new Shoat Webster-esque streak of Round-Up attendance.