Tour de Multnomah County 2008

Yesterday we went for a really. long. bike ride. Ok, so maybe it wasn't that long by Poooortland standards, but I'm sorry - my idea of a bike ride is down the block to get a half gallon of milk. This was serious business. And uphill both ways! (I kid not...I'll get to that part later). We embarked on our ambitious journey a bit late - around 2:30 in the afternoon - and headed first to REI, to make sure we were up to safety standards. I needed a helmet, since my original one was stolen back in NYC (on the ground floor of our apt building, no less), and Kyle and I both needed front and back lights for our bikes. Nathan, are you proud? When you see us on our bikes next we'll be like our own Halloween light show. After spending too much there, it was up to Willamette Boulvevard, home to the University of Portland. The view from there is pretty spectacular - although you're looking down on rail yards and industrial parking lots, you do get an awesome view of the city and it's a great spot to soak up direct afternoon sunlight. I even got a sunburn!

The area around U of P seems to be a lovely little mix of a college students and residents who have lived in Portland for many years and thus have had the opportunity to collect lots of knick knacks, which they proudly display in their street-facing windows. As we were biking along, Kyle asked me if I thought some of the houses were off-campus housing for students. We simultaneously passed a dude chilling out on a front porch - dreads and all - strumming on his guitar, with the front door wide open. I think he answered the question for us.

We passed an in-progress soccer game along the way - go U of P Pilots! - and then made our way up to St. John's, which was a really quaint little town that in many ways didn't look like it had been touched since 1953. The local high school's homecoming - and it's associated events - were proudly displayed on the town's "Welcome to" sign, and it made me wish a little bit that I had gone to a high school with a football team. The closest I've come to having a personal connection to the lovely sport of football is the fact that my two awesome cousins - one already graduated, one still there - played football for Tufts. Max played center for the Jumbos and graduated in '07...Noah is a junior there now...isn't he cute?

But, like usual, I digress...so we bopped around St. John's for a bit, stopped for some sweet potato fries at Burgerville, (they actually have WIND TURBINES on their website! Take that, Mickey D's) and ate them outside while Kyle told me about how Burgerville is a "sustainable" fast food joint that uses fresh, local ingredients. Made me feel better about eating fried food, anyways. Thanks for that, Kyle.

Pretty fall foliage in St. John's.











Rest stop.











After casually biking through St. John's, it was off to my FAVORITE part of the trip (can you hear the dripping sarcasm in my voice here?): biking across the St. John's bridge. I should preface this part of the story with a little tid-bit of information: I have a fear of heights. Most close to me already know this, but for those of you who don't, let's just say that biking across a bridge like St. John's, with a guard rail that comes up to my knee, on a raised sidewalk while 18-wheelers 3 inches to my left are zooming by, is NOT my idea of a good time. About 500 feet into the ride over the bridge, I dismounted and started to walk my bike, all the while breathing heavily and trying to focus on the fact that man-made bridges such as these are SUPPOSED to bounce up and down when cars go by - it means the suspension is working like its supposed to! (These are the kinds of things you learn when you are engaged to someone who loves bridges). I'm not sure whether he did it to make me feel better, or whether he was scared sh*tless as well, but Kyle dismounted and started walking as well.

Well, we HAD to take pictures...I'm smiling in this one, but if you look carefully, you'll notice it is a smile laced with fear. El - you would NOT have enjoyed this. I thought of your trek up to the top of Haleakala during this entire ride, and my heart went out to you. As you can see, Kyle looks a bit more comfortable with his surroundings.

After we made it over the St. John's bridge (and I thanked my lucky stars I was still alive) it was decision making time. At this point it was about 4:30 and the sun was beginning to sink pretty low in the sky. Kyle presented me with two options:

1) bike along the main road, which has a bike path and is flat, but we'd be biking alongside unpleasant traffic. Not scenic, but quick and to the point (about a 20-30 min ride home)

2) if I had ... and I quote... "a little bit left in me," make our way uphill for a little bit, and then take the lovely Leif Erikson pathway back town to Portland. This winds its way through Forest Park, which is just beautiful. Would take longer, and would require a bit of uphill time, but would be worth it in the end.

ME (thinking): I really want to choose Option 1, but that is SO lame.
ME (speaking): Let's do #2 - I'm ready!

Thus began what had to have been a climb up the steepest urban hill I have ever - EVER - seen. Not only did I have to dismount my bike oh, pretty much immediately...but I could barely WALK up this hill. Seriously. And it kept going...and going...and going. At a certain point, I am breathing so heavily I think I'm going to have an asthma attack (I don't have asthma) and Kyle is about 10 feet ahead of me (good distance for me not to be muttering cusswords at him) and this guy - probably 18 years old, somewhere around there - comes running down the hill in boxers, a t-shirt, and sneakers with no socks. Running is really a loose term - it looked like he was out for an "exercise-related" experience, but his arms were flopping all over the place and he was bobbing his head from side to side. As he ran past us, we approached what can only be described as a house directly off the set of Deliverance. This was by far the most terrifying house I have ever seen. If Law and Order SVU would ever like to come film on location in Oregon, just ask me and I'll direct them to this house. I would have run past it, had it not been for the 87 degree incline we were walking up. Instead, I slowly climbed past it hoping that whoever posted the "No trespassing under any circumstances" sign didn't come out of the house (or one of the three trailers in the back "yard") with a rifle and a grievance.

We finally - and I'm talking maybe 45 mins later - make it to the Leif Erikson road that Kyle was initially talking about taking back into Portland. This is me when we made our way to the road (and I was *told*) no more uphill battles. The fact that I'm still posing for pictures at this point is something to speak of.

In any case, we spent the next hour and a half freezing our you know whats off winding our way down to Portland. The incline was so discreet that about 50% of the time, we were actually biking uphill. I still don't understand how this is possible, but there you have it. Forest Park - the largest urban forest reserve in the U.S.- is absolutely stunning - we only ran into one or two people on our way home, and the fresh air there is something like I've never really experienced anywhere else. I could smell cedar trees along the way, and the pines, and the drying leaves - it was all just wonderful. But - I will say - it was a good darn thing we got those lights, as it was pitch black by the time we made it back to Portland, where we biked ourselves right over to NW 23rd for a slice (or two, in my case) of warm pizza.