Jane and I drove down to Portland on Thursday morning for a much needed mini vacation. We brought the bikes down with a final pre-STP training ride in mind.

We arrived in town around 1pm and found the hotel quickly. I spun around the block a few times surprised at the lack of parking options I had at the time. We were able to snag a 90 minute spot, and we had to hold it until 7pm that night. Needless to say, we stuck around the Pearl District for the night.

The hotel was beautiful and felt like home right away. The rooms were a bit small, especially with our bikes taking up a wall, but we were very comfortable. They had claw foot tubs reminiscent of our first apartment in Seattle that brought back warm memories. The TV with cable was a special bonus since I was able to watch a bit of the Tour between rides and eats.

One of the first spots we hit was the food trucks between 4th and 9th. The food is amazing and cheap. Interestingly, most of the trucks are only open during the week… so I’m guessing there are a portion of people in the city that aren’t able to ever enjoy them. It is a shame too, because I had a wonderful burrito for 4 dollars that made my eyes roll back.

We ran in to Jane’s old girlfriend on day one and ended up going out for drinks with her later that night. It was the first of many random meetings with old friends that weekend. We got a taste of the nightlife in Portland and I did my best to take it easy.

Day two was definitely food oriented. We drove out to my mom’s new place with her boyfriend Tom in HIllsboro. It was a dual purpose party for the 4th and Tom’s 80 year old mother. They made 8 racks of ribs, stupid amounts of bratwurst, a massive pot of beans and all of the potato fixins’ a boy could wish for. None of it was left by day’s end.

We were able to dump the car off with my mom in HIllsboro, so I felt a bit better about getting around Portland without worrying about it. Jane and I went down to the water front amongst the riff raff and watched the fireworks that night. The people were the true show though. There was a little bit of each kind on display… hippies, jocks, junkies, suburbanites, yuppies, burn outs, gangsters, bikers, and lots and lots of sandals on all of them. The sandal to person ratio is quite high during an Oregon summer. I managed to snag a video of a lady who was very excited to watch the fireworks. She was fist pumping her tall boy can as if she were watching a(nother) Sabbath reunion tour (note: I don’t seem to have access to software to show you said video… maybe some day). Nothing is more magical.

Speaking of magical, we set out Saturday morning with one thing in mind. Bicycling.


We spent a good chunk of the day climbing the hills outside of Portland for some pretty epic views of the Oregon countryside. The first climb was a monster 1,000ft climb from sea level up a “road” that was best described as a fire trail. None of it was paved but the gravel wasn’t extremely loose. Jane did awesome up it. We stopped a few times to clean the mud out of our brakes as it stuck loose stick in our fenders. Almost the whole climb had a “snake hissing” sound emitting from our rear wheels. The few hikers that were on the trail were surprised to see people on it with road bikes.

There were 3 climbs in total, the last dishing out the most pain. Jane was cursing and cramping by the end up the final climb. She probably wanted to punch me by that point, but it would be wasted energy. She did amazing.
The descent down the last hill was mind blowing. It was a series of switch backs followed by some tunnels and a tight drop in to the city through traffic. Beyond fun. I love riding my damn bike. Jane described it as “the best descent I’ve ever ridden”… and that girl loves going down hills.

After a shower and some rest, we hit the town again with food and beer in mind. I knew that I wanted to go to the new Hopworks Urban Brewery. I’d be lying if I said that it wasn’t a bit of a disappointment. I guessing it expected it to be a bit more “bike themed” than it ended up being, and it was quite a bit out of our way to find that out. I foolishy thought they might be playing the Tour and we basically planned the night around it. Still, the beer was fabulous and there was nothing to complain about. My expectations were just too high.

Gelato, coffee, and the Tour completed the day. Vacations are great.

On our final day, we met Mom and Tom again for breakfast at Cup and Saucer. We ate, said our goodbyes and checked out of the hotel before our cut off. Jane let me stop by River City Bicycles before we left town and (graciously) let me buy a couple of things tax free.

All in all, it was a fantastic weekend and pretty much exactly what I needed to get out of this slump.

On the 4th of July my mother is going to have a barbecue with some family and friends. Jane and I used it as a good excuse to make a weekend out of it.

We didn’t get to go camping last weekend, so I wanted to take another long weekend. Hopefully this one will go better than the last. The plan is to trek down with the bikes in tow and stay in downtown Portland at the Ace Hotel.

Note: Images taken (with love) from the Ace Hotel website

We have been wanting to stay there for a while. In fact, we check the status of reservations every time we are down in Portland. They have always been booked up. We are going to stay Thursday, Friday and Saturday nights and bike in and around the city for fun. Aside from the amazing rooms, Ace sports a Stumptown Coffee inside the building. Amazing.

Since this is the weekend before Seattle to Portland, there will be the obligatory “tough training ride” for Jane and I. We are going to tackle a route from a cue sheet I got a while back from a Rapha event.

When the Handmade Bicycle Show was in town, Rapha put on a series of events including a roller race and an organized ride. We didn’t make it to the ride, but I grabbed some cue sheets and I’ve been itching to do the ride. It packs quite a bit of climbing in to less than 40 miles, and should prove to have some great views of the city. Jane is going to be more than ready for STP this year.

I’m still deciding which bike to take… choices choices….

Speaking of Rapha, Jane ordered me some new gear the other day off their website. I haven’t regretted a single purchase from them yet. Everything is expensive, but honestly worth it. Call it retail therapy.

It has been a weird week. I’m just glad things are starting to get back to normal.

Eu·ginger–noun
1. A redhead born in or currently residing in Eugene, OR.
Eu·ge·net·ics–noun
1. The scientific study of the principles of heredity and the variation of inherited traits among related organisms living in Eugene.

Norman, Jane and I took a road trip this weekend to visit our friend Erin and her family. We spent a couple of nights in the college town and I got to experience a bit of the local customs. Here are a couple of noteworthy items.

People: Much to Norman’s approval, there was a high ginger population in the town. It seemed like every time I turned a corner, there was another freckled face tucked behind a Dayglo orange mop top. Nobody was using props to make me laugh.

Since the University is in town, there were plenty of young folks on the streets being hip. I don’t often feel old, but somehow I did.

City: Flat. Smells like patchouli.

Nightlife: We went to the only gay bar in town. Pulled straight from a Twin Peaks set, the bar featured wood logs for seats, private cubby holes that you needed to jump into, and lots of cheetah print. There were a couple of foreign bartenders dancing, clapping randomly, and acting generally like “Two wild and crazy guys”.

“I feel like I’m in Des Moines,” Norman said early into the night.

I’m assuming all of the dance music was from Russia too because we didn’t recognize any of it. The people that were dancing did some sort of hippie gyration that must involve a drug that I’m not about to ingest. It was a cross between rave and interpretive dance. If it wasn’t so scary it would have been pretty funny.

Bicycles: The true test of how nice a city is. I was pleased to find that Eugene is (much like the rest of Oregon) very bicycle friendly. In fact, it is almost disturbing just how bike friendly it is. All of the lanes have big wide bike lanes and plenty of lights. I was told that drivers are 100% at fault for accidents in town too. I haven’t done the research on that, but it wouldn’t surprise me at bit. With all of the shoulders and bike awareness, I would assume that people would be comfortable riding in the street. No, most of the traffic was on the sidewalk trying to run us down if we didn’t move. Nobody had proper lighting and few had helmets.

That brings us to the bikes themselves. Out of a hundred bicycles, I think that I saw one nice bike. One. There was an old Peugeot that would have passed for nice, but someone vomited a gel seat and flat bars on it. The rest of the bikes were a mix of Frankenstein mountain bikes and beach cruisers. I suppose if I lived in a city that flat I wouldn’t need a bike that went over 8mph either.

Needless to say, we all had a good time. Despite the hatred of my Washington license plates, nobody ran into us.

Thanksgiving turned out a bit better than I was thinking it would. The 1,500 miles driven (round trip) were free of both traffic and snow. I got a chance to see some of the beautiful Oregon countryside again, and ended up with a pretty solid meal to boot. Somewhere along the way I lost my favorite belt though.

I’m always amused by truck stops. On the surface, a place will seem clean and well kept. There is a seedy underbelly to these places though. Between the hookers and speed pills, truckers live a life that few can really handle. Somewhere between here and there, I walked into a restroom with a gay smut magazine opened and lying on the floor. I am unsure if it was some sort of code, but I handled my usual business and got the hell out.

We got home from Sacramento Saturday evening and spent the night playing Rock Band. I never realized just how tone deaf I was until I tried to sing a song or two. In a word, painful. I am really loving the drums, but it took me awhile to get used to coordinating my hands and feet.

Last week Peter McKay dropped off some fliers regarding the shootings that have been going down in our neighborhoods. I finally got around to putting them up last night. I got a lot of questions from neighbors, so I am hoping it turns up something. The reward is substantial enough that I can imagine it would turn someone into a “rat”. It is a shame that people are so weary of interacting with local police. I was confronted by a guy at a bus stop while stapling them up. He informed me that though he had never been shot at while on a bike, people have “tried to gang rape” him before. I’m not sure if that involved a bicycle though. He was sure that “those Mexican kids” were involved, but offered no evidence. Regardless, I hope something turns up.

I am going to get a new Slingshot for Christmas, and I am looking forward to it. It is used for a bicycle mileage logbook and I have so much stuff coming up next year. SIR is starting training in January, and the official brevets start in March. I am getting a bit nervous and a little excited to start the randoneuring. I have ridden a couple of hundred miles over a weekend (Seattle to Portland), but I have yet to put this kind of strain on my body. I came out of my lymphoma experience feeling strong though. There is no doubt in my mind that I will succeed.