The Business Casual Backpacker

Gibson must like it while I spent lavishly on his health, because he began the new season by traveling like a champ for 1,376.4 mls. A little too much of a champ Maybe, since I picked up my first ever speeding solution on this trip-and it’s so tremendous that it’s like retribution for controlling to avoid any others in the last dozen years.

I didn’t know they made seat tickets that big. But my buddy, always wise counsel, reminded me of something our similarly smart data used to say: “If it can be solved by time or money, don’t get worried about any of it.” I believe I’ll roll with this. When The Semi and I reached Oregon after 11 hours car en, we were greeted by her excellent friends K and B and some warm lentil soup, followed by many hours of rocklike sleeping.

The following day, we frolicked around what ended up being a bigger downtown than I’d understood on previous journeys. Our first stop was a steel bridge, one around nine (I believe) bridges that you can walk across and/or under in pedestrian-friendly Portland. The very best part about crossing the bridge was the hazy feeling we were doing something naughty. I mean, you’re not saying to be able to see what a bridge looks like from underneath, right? The second best part was the arbitrary traffic light about halfway across. THERE’S NO ACTUAL CROSSWALK AND NOTHING COMING!

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Okay, you can go. On the far side of the bridge, we found these squat little green men. The Semi says that is where they connect up ships, but I think they’re working to ensure nobody runs the traffic light. Then we went to Chinatown. B says it’s rapidly fading as a commercial district, but it houses some restaurants still, cute hipster businesses (like a bar full of video gaming and an all-night doughnut shop), and the stunning Portland Chinese Garden.

An indicator of how carefully and proudly the garden is manicured: I spent an extremely long time taking a look at the floor. K explained that the view through each interior window is of paramount importance to the garden’s architect, and that’s easy to believe. In the garden is a little, gracious teahouse, where we heated up for a while and used our new tea brands: Golden Emperor, Tea Flowers (aka Blossom), Red Clover, and The Link. After a festive New Year’s supper that included Nikki, and Gregg, plus champagne at midnight with a houseful of cheerful strangers, The Semi and I southward going.

You know what’s arriving, right? Getting to the Treesort was like starring in the sequel to Deliverance, with one deserted backroad turning out to be another. We showed up in the same way sunlight was establishing in the center of nowhere. Then she told us she’d be leaving and offered us the phone quantity for the owner if he was needed by us.

We were the only guests who arrived that night. Inside our defense, we did make everything the way to Forestree carrying our backpacks-I even attempted to haul our cooler up there using the rickety pulley thing. Treehouse feels like it won’t stop swaying. We made a unanimous decision to run after Melody’s car down the road until she provided us a less scary room.

Peastick Perch was a lot more civilized. These were luring, but we skipped them after finding the speedy Wi-Fi. No central heating, but a killer wireless connection. It’s all about priorities. The morning In, the treehouses were seen by us. Except when they paused between bites to provide me the optical vision. We found some rules to break before we still left even. All these other adventures aside, my high point of 2007 up to now is reading a newspaper clipping on the wall of the Black Bear. If it was created by you through this entire post, there’s your incentive.