Take an Adult Snow Day

Oregon students typically get two to three weeks off school in December and January—a period most look forward to since there’s no schedule, few responsibilities, and usually the possibility of snow. But once most people reach adulthood, a winter pause disappears from the rhythm of life. So it is far past time for grown-ups to reclaim this seasonal recess, especially after two years tormented by everything from COVID to supply-chain shortages to inflation. Now, perhaps weeks of lounging around isn’t in the cards. But you can certainly gift yourself one blissful day of relaxing activities this winter. To help you prepare, we created a morning-to-night guide of cozy destinations across the city. And there doesn’t need to be actual snow on the ground for you to enjoy this list—just consider an adult snow day a frame of mind. Call in sick or use a vacation day. Cart the kids off to a relative’s. Turn off your phone. Then unwind.

Drink mead lattes and wander through Middle-earth.

Unless you count your adorable “Slow Down” Mike Bennett-made snail yard sign, the prolific artist has never had a permanent exhibit until now—and it also happens to serve coffee and pastries. Start your skip day by caffeinating at Wonderwood Springs (8811 N Lombard St., 971-242-8927), a cafe with a menu of morning standards, like mochas and breakfast sandwiches, in an environment that is anything but standard.

The shop is adorned with more than 400 hand-painted pieces that help flesh out the medieval tavern setting, including Bennett’s signature big-eyed, bizarro (but always lovable-looking) creatures and plywood cutout props ranging from a wall of swords to pieces of armor. Those images are intermixed with real-world artifacts, like a cuckoo clock, a stack of antique trunks and birdcages—items donated by Bennett’s fans, who came out in force to help contribute to the ambience.

“The community following my art is why I get to do what I do,” Bennett explains. “Up until now, the biggest thing that a community member could do was buy a piece of art, come visit a display. But for this [installation], I got to put it out there that we are creating a space that is a cross between cartoon and real life and fantasy, so we need old stuff. People showed up more than I expected.”

The result really is something akin to the zany ebullience of Who Framed Roger Rabbit, the ‘80s film where ‘toons and humans inhabit the same world, only without the animation.

While the cafe ran out of hot food during my visit on opening weekend, the beverages kept coming. The standout, so far, is the mead latte, which doesn’t actually contain any alcohol, but the blend of sweetness, malty black tea and orange zest syrup are flavors that should satisfy connoisseurs of today’s refined honey wines.

Get your drink to go, then head over to Bennett’s other new project next door. Wonderwood (7410 N Chicago Ave.) is a 7,000-square-foot immersive attraction that continues the cafe’s magical theme. The former St. Johns bank has been transformed into the fictional town of Maplehold—Bennett’s version of Middle-earth—that may also happen to have a character that’s made of flesh and blood, not plywood.

Participate in your own Ice Capades.

Depending on where you are in Lloyd Center, it looks like a mid-20th century institution that is either on its deathbed or undergoing a radical rebirth. Storefronts in some corridors are dark and barricaded while other areas are filled with new, independently owned small businesses that are crawling with customers.

But after all these decades, the Lloyd Center Ice Rink (953 Lloyd Center, 503-288-6073) remains its core—an attraction that draws crowds even as the scenery around it undergoes a seismic shift.

The arena was the world’s first inside a mall when Lloyd Center opened in 1960. And at least part of its identity will always be linked to Oregon’s infamous Olympic ice skater, Tonya Harding, who learned how to navigate on blades here as a child.

In 2016, the rink underwent an extensive overhaul as part of a larger mallwide renovation, with mixed results. The slab of ice got smaller, but overall aesthetics around it improved. The waiting area where you strap on skates is roomier, so you no longer have to fight with 6-year-olds for a seat while the Zamboni does laps.

Other than that, it’s the same old ice arena you remember, and maybe even shuffled around on yourself with the assistance of cones while taking lessons years ago. The crowd is exactly what you’d expect: a mix of wobbly legged kids straddled by parents keeping them upright, teenagers meandering around the perimeter, and ice queens in the center practicing single axels. Get out there and join them for a few spins. It’s wildly invigorating, especially when Lloyd Center lets the faux snowflakes fly from the ceiling.

Soak, sweat, chill, repeat.

After braving a slippery surface while balancing on knife edges, it’s time for some self-care. And few other places in Portland feel as indulgent as Knot Springs (33 NE 3rd Ave., Suite 365, 503-222-5668), the city’s premier spa, for whom the name “spa” is apparently too pedestrian. From here on out, you shall refer to the fifth floor of the luxury Yard apartment building as a “wellness social club,” which is how it’s described on the website.

The fancified name is warranted. Let’s just say that if Mike White were ever to set a season of his sumptuous HBO program The White Lotus in Portland, the resort’s soaking pools would fit right in. Its angular slate-and-concrete space is sleek and minimalist, and there are accent walls that look like impeccably stacked firewood to bring in a Pacific Northwest vibe. Floor-to-ceiling windows bathe the area in natural light and provide impressive views of the Steel Bridge and Old Town. In fact, there’s something almost movie-villain cruel about gazing down on I-5 traffic as you soak and sip wintergreen-flavored hot tea.

But escaping daily annoyances like gridlock is exactly why you’re here, and Knot Springs has a very specific regimen to help you unwind. You’ll find the “10 Steps to Relaxation” engraved on one pillar, and so for my very first visit, I decided to follow them precisely to get the most out of my allotted hour.

I began with a quick exfoliation by rubbing down my arms and legs with Knot Springs’ custom salt scrub in a warm shower near the lockers. Then, I sank into the comfortably warm Tepidarium, the first of three pools. The facility sets the water temperature right below that of the human body in order to loosen up visitors’ muscles. Most people congregated in this tub.

After that, it was into the boil. The Caldarium, at 104 degrees, is Jacuzzi-like thanks not only to its temperature, but also the roiling water and color-changing light. As I leaned back to enjoy the bubbles, I noticed another engraved wall—this one explaining why I would benefit from Step Three: the 47-degree Cold Plunge.

The detailed description of contrast bathing—alternating between extreme temperatures—cites numerous benefits, including internal organ rejuvenation, reduced swelling, and immune system augmentation. I appreciated the assurance that the frigid immersion wasn’t just the wellness club pranking unknowing visitors, but it also felt like the wall was giving me a pep talk before I left the comfort of the hot tub to dunk my body in water that’s chillier than the Pacific just off Oregon’s coastline. I wasn’t there to question Knot Springs’ wisdom, so into the glacial pool I went.

Two tattooed men were already in the Cold Plunge and up to their necks, unflinching and expressionless. I, on the other hand, had to inch my way ever deeper while grimacing. By the time I was waist deep, a little yelp left my mouth, and I skittered back to the Caldarium. But not only would I try again, zigzagging from hot to cold became my favorite part of the experience: Sauna, Cold Plunge, Steam Room, Cold Plunge, Caldarium, Cold Plunge.

Regulars say there’s some strategy involved when it comes to sticking it out in the low-temperature water. One woman explained that she picks a car in freeway gridlock and focuses on that in order to take her mind off the pain. I watched one man close his eyes, ball his hands up into fists and hover, as if he were doing a wall sit while meditating. And according to Knot Springs lore, there’s a guy who is master of the ice bath, hanging out, spread-eagle, for 20-minute stretches. Rumor has it, he’s preparing for the Iditarod.

After the aquatic interval training, there was a final destressing splurge on the schedule: a hot stone massage. Unlike those ads you’ve likely seen for resorts, the rocks are not lined up across your spine and left to sit. Instead, they’re used to knead your muscles like bread dough. My therapist, Peter, said the result is the opposite of fight or flight—”rest and digest” is what he called it. So, if you fall asleep on the table or leave hungry, it means the process is probably working.

Peel off some layers by the fire.

You should be ready to rehydrate and refuel, and can continue the hot-to-cold theme with a progressive meal sitting next to some of the city’s loveliest fireplaces and atop an open-air patio. Northwest Portland is actually packed with restaurants containing charming mantels, so start with a classic. The brick behemoth at RingSide (2165 W Burnside St., 503-223-1513) is also the most unique. The floor-to-ceiling asymmetrical fireplace looks as if it’s melting thanks to the blocks’ sloped, uneven placement. The piece is studded with other materials, like collected rocks and petrified wood, as well as keepsakes, including a glass fishing float from the coast and an authentic German stein.

If you end up in a booth far from those flames, warm yourself from the inside out with onions two ways. This 80-year-old steakhouse is known for its fried golden bands of Walla Walla sweets, and the menu proudly states that James Beard called them “the finest” he’d ever eaten. It’s true, the onion rings are perfect. As big as drink coasters and exhibiting an ideal coating-to-allium ratio, these are also the only rings I’ve ever had where the entire onion slice doesn’t slip out of its batter jacket on the first bite. And while the copper pot of baked onion soup may not be as famous, it’s just as praiseworthy. The broth is rich and beefy, and there are few dining experiences as pleasurable as piercing the thick, gooey Gruyère crust with your spoon.

Gather round the campfire(s).

When you’re named The Fireside (801 NW 23rd Ave., 503-477-9505), there better be some open flames awaiting inside. This restaurant happily delivers by housing not just one but two fireplaces, each with its own personality. An elegant black mantel framed by bubble glass pendant lamps greets you at the bar, while a more intimate round pit—think of Vegas’ iconic Peppermill fireplace only without the neon and moat—warms the dining room.

My bartender informed me the restaurant took its inspiration from “the feeling you get at a campfire—homey, a lack of stress.” And there’s no trip to the woods involved if you’re averse to leaves and dirt. We’ll glamp here all season, especially if The Fireside keeps its Autumn Mule on the menu. Served with a green apple chip, warming flavors like cider and cinnamon prove that not all winter drinks need to be hot to provide comfort.

Take a tour of Italy.

The elegance of Papa Haydn (701 NW 23rd Ave., 503-228-7317) desserts extend to its fireplace, a dark green-and-white marble appliance styled after the mantels you’d find in Italian cities like Lucca, Siena and Milan. Installed near the center of the restaurant in 1988, five years after the Northwest location opened, the fireplace was wood-burning for the first two decades but is now gas-powered. And there’s more to admire than the ornate stone. The shelf is often decorated to reflect the season, so the orange pumpkins I saw have by now been switched out for something wintry.

Long, cold nights call for a sweet pick-me-up, and the Cacao de Oro will do the trick. Peruvian dark chocolate is served both as a mousse and a panna cotta (“cooked cream” in Italian) on a milk chocolate-and-buckwheat bark base. The entire thing is about the size of an engagement ring box, and you’ll devour it in no time. Consider yourself fortified for one more blast of cold.

Gaze at the city from a semi-hidden rooftop.

Few perches are better to survey downtown from than the rooftop deck at The Society Hotel (203 NW 3rd Ave., 503-445-0444). It’s a bit of a secret—unless you’re led there by someone in the know, it’s easy to miss the discreet sign in the lobby encouraging customers to inquire about the open-air patio. While yet another toasty fireplace beckons on the ground floor, take your drink from the corner bar for a ride up the elevator. Not only do you get views ranging from the grove of skyscrapers in Southwest to the Rose Quarter across the river, heat lamps (and a warm coat) make it easy to hang out five stories up outside in the dead of winter.