Day 7 Rest Day in Portland: Doughnuts, a Skeleton, and a Very Dirty Car

2026 Rally4Vets America Grand Tour

After six days and 1,348 miles, both the car and the crew had officially earned a day off. So we took one. No schedule, no mission stops on the clock, just blue sky over Portland and the rare luxury of nowhere we had to be. Turns out we're terrible at doing nothing — we still managed to visit a VFW and trade coins — but we'll get to that.

Breakfast Was a Doughnut. We Regret Nothing.

You can't roll through Portland and not hit the original Voodoo Doughnut. It's a little pink-boxed shrine to sugar and questionable life choices, and we love it. We got coffee and

doughnuts and grabbed a window seat — right next to Voodoo's house skeleton, who was sitting there in a ball cap and a t-shirt looking far too relaxed for a man with no muscles. Behind him, out the window, our rig sat parked by an antique gas pump, decked out in the colors.

So there's the scene: a skeleton in a hat, a Rally4Vets WRX, and two veterans eating their vegetables (the doughnuts had fruit filling, so we're calling it balanced). Portland in one photo. We've taken worse breakfasts a lot more seriously.

We Went to "Rest" and Ended Up at a VFW

We can't help ourselves. On a day specifically set aside for relaxing, we drove out to Gresham and visited VFW Post 180 — the Gresham United post, which bunks up with American Legion Post 30 under one roof. Walk inside and you get the full tour of the American century: service flags on every wall, model fighter planes hanging from the ceiling like a kid's dream bedroom, and the kind of easy camaraderie that makes a post hall feel like home about four seconds after you walk in.

Then came the good part. We exchanged challenge coins. And the one they handed us is a stunner — it's got the oath stamped right on it: Once took a solemn oath to defend the Constitution against all enemies, foreign and domestic. Flip it over and it reads: Be advised that no one has ever relieved me of my duties under this oath.

That line gets us every time. It's the whole reason we're out here, summed up on a coin you can hold in your fist. The oath didn't expire when we took the uniform off. Neither did the brotherhood. Trading coins with the crew at Post 180 was the best part of a very good day — sorry, "rest" day.

RIP to 1,348 Miles of Bugs

Our poor WRX had hauled us, our gear, and a small galaxy of dead insects all the way from Los Angeles to Portland — 1,348 miles of coastline, redwoods, bridges, and windshield

casualties. She'd earned a spa day. So we ran her through Scrubby's Car Wash and watched six days of road grime swirl down the drain. There is no clean quite like finally clean, and she came out gleaming, colors bright, ready to do it all again.

We Love Portland. That's the Whole Post.

Some rest days are just chores. This one was a gift — perfect weather, a weird and wonderful city, a post full of good people, doughnuts for breakfast, and a clean car to show for it. We came to recharge, and Portland delivered.

Tomorrow we point the nose east and get back to work. But today, we just enjoyed being exactly where we were.

This isn't a road trip. It's a moving act of remembrance — and a celebration of the country and the people who created it.

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