Matthew Botos

On the advice of a Portland local, I checked out some local music and beer at Laurelthirst. It’s a real neighborhood place with a regular roster of bands and patrons. Monday night was the Kung Pao Chickens playing some enjoyable “gypsy jazz” which got a number of people up for some swing-style dancing.

The tables were outfitted with boxes of Trivial Pursuit cards for passing the time waiting for food and in between music sets. Noshing on turkey chili nachos and sipping a Free Range Red while enjoying some live music was a nice way to pass the evening. Getting back afterwards tested my mass transit skills a bit, but I’m starting to get the hang of it.

With just one definitely sunny day forecast for the next few days, I decided to take in the views from Washington Park above the west end of the city. A ride on the MAX light rail, a stint on the bus, and a short walk landed me halfway up the hill at the International Rose Test Garden. Beds of roses in every conceivable color combination fill the garden, which overlooks Portland through breaks in the tall evergreens. It was a little too hazy to see Mount Hood, but the rest of the city was nicely laid out.

While waiting for the Japanese Garden to open, I polished off the end of Lance Armstrong’s War. While it was an enjoyable read poking into the multifaceted world of professional cycling and all its characters, I was almost more relieved to be able to unload the weight. My shoulders aren’t up to bike messenger standards, and were already tired of lugging a lopsided pack around. The Japanese Garden was a soothing combination of water and landscape features offering an even higher vantage of the city.

I soon descended in search of lunch in the Nob Hill neighborhood. The area is known for shops and sidewalk cafes, and a roast beef sandwich and beer were just the cure for tired feet and an empty stomach. The warm afternoon weather encouraged plenty of people watching, and my “Ithaca is Gorges” shirt prompted a chat with a family from New York.

(The photo tally is already at 150, though I’ll have to wait until the end of the trip to post them since iPhoto isn’t compatible with my publishing methods.)

It’s a little too early. The house is a little too neat, a hair too empty. Except for a few bags lined up neatly by the door. It’s vacation time, and despite the pang of sadness that comes with leaving home, I know I’ll appreciate it all the more when I get home.

As usual, I’ve slept too little before the early morning run to the airport. Outside it’s alternating between rain and a flat out downpour. Hopefully the weather in Oregon will be better.

The Philly departure is uneventful, and a few catnaps later, I’m in Vegas, where the temperature is aiming for 105. Inside the airport, it’s slot machines and bad food with long lines, so I forage for snacks the gift shop while grazing like a camel over the water fountain in light of the liquid carry on ban.

Portland is a bit toasty, pushing 90, but not so bad without the east coast humidity. An easy ride on the MAX light rail line drops me two blocks from the hotel, my temporary home for the next week.