…at last Oregon!

Halfway! We arrived in Oregon in one piece AND on schedule, setting up camp in the lovely Hood River to visit with my traveling companion’s family and take advantage of summer in the Pacific Northwest. I swear, in every town we came to our hosts said “the weather’s never this nice!” “I can’t believe it’s sunny today!” “You just missed the nastiest cold weekend ever!” Hey, I’ll take it.

Portland was awesome, as expected, and I doffed my cap to the Gods of Coffee at the mothership of Stumptown (despite mild heartbreak at learning that the company had been sold to a multinational management company last year) and wallowed in the best thrift stores I’ve seen in years. Of course, the lady that checked us out at the House of Vintage has a nephew that plays in a band in Austin. Of course she does.

We paddled on the Columbia river, plucked ripe cherries right off sagging branches faster than we could stuff them in our mouths, got kicked out of three bars in one night (‘last call’ at 9:30, 11:00 and midnight, respectively) and harassed the locals on Oak Street with handmade signs proclaiming such wisdom as “PICKLE.”

And the waterfalls. Did I mention there were waterfalls?

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