Oregon is so unbelievably charming to me. It feels like home, but all the little differences leave me utterly smitten. The tree on the license plate. The ambiguous, unpredictable weather. No sales tax. U of O apparel. Fred Meyer. How green everything is. So many bridges. Beatiful large dogs. Strawberry pie…?!
Even the ridiculously small towns we went to (Dundee, St. Paul, to a lesser extent Newberg and Tigard) were so much less creepy than most I’ve seen. Or maybe that’s because I have an odd nonsensical respect for Oregonians, without valid reason.
Portland is a great city, and one of the cleanest I’ve seen. There’s a free public streetcar, to shuttle you around the city. Many people ride bikes! And I feel like the roadbike to fixie ratio is much less offensive here than in Davis. I love the rows of bridges over the Willamette–I spent a while this morning watching the birds dip and drift in the river. I finally feel like I know my way around here. I walked to Saturday market today, from there downtown, from there to Powell’s (bought two Huxley novels), and from there home, without any wrong turns.
Tomorrow morning–trainride to Seattle! Yet another lovely area of the Pacific Northwest.
I am not letting my cold and fever bring me down, either.
A good roadbike to fixie ratio is essential.
you probabyl knew, but i was surprised to find out your sentences highlight in orange