Postdated: Portland

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Portland

We arrived in Portland and started browsing for a spot. We found one that seemed to be in the middle of things. The parking spots were long, enough for two cars. (we later find out that this is the function of the parking spots. on our second day, we also learn from a seemingly grumpy, parking lot keeper that for us to park our motorhome and take up two spaces means we should be paying $60, whereas we were paying normal rates of $10 and $5. as we were leaving on our bikes to go to the park, he made this evident. he was ever so gracious to extend us the favor of a minimal $21 fee which would last us through the day into the next morning, which is what the normal rate gets you anyway.........the normal rate of $5 on weekends. we paid the money, thanked him, and were on our way. at a glance, there were many parking spaces available and the motorhome rate was not on the sign. he let us know that it is written on a piece of paper inside his booth. i declare shenanigans on the whole situation.)
Our bike ride took us to a park by a river at the bottom of the hills that are Portland. There we kicked a soccer ball around and threw a disc (frisbee, but similar to kleenex and band-aid situations. i call it a disc). After an intense game of 2v2 ultimate, we settled down under the shade and read our books for however long it was. A man was walking his dog, playing fetch and the like, and passed through where we had layed our game. He reached down to pick up what we thought was the ball he had been throwing. He howed unusual interest in it, then proceeded through the park. a few minutes later, we realized that we had watched him pick up Ben's now missing leatherman and walk away with it. This was quickly followed by the discovery of a random knife with a half broken handle. Not much of a substitute, but later in San rancisco, after being held hostage in Ben's backpack for the duration of the trip thus far, it was used to cut an old library card in half to create makeshift guitar picks.
We met with Chuck and Linda Florio, family friends of the Agenbroad's. They treated us to dinner and conversation, which we are most thankful for.
The other point to be made about Portland is Powell's Books. We were fortunate enough that our parking location was only two blocks away from this amazing place, so we found ourselves there often. We all came away with some purchases and I came away with added awe at such a place. A library where everything is for sale, not only copies of the books, but paperback, hardback, first edition, second edition, third edition, signed, all sorts of combinations. They had a bountiful array of genres in the span of the three story building. I will cease to describe this place and simply advise that if you find yourself in or around Portland, you will not have wasted a second or a penny to travel to the store and spend a day there. I've already made the recommendation to some of you, but I must remind you and extend the recommendation to the rest of you of the book "Ishmael" by Daniel Quinn. An eye opener to say say the least. It has changed my perspective on the way our society functions in every aspect and I do not hold a doubt that it will do the same for any reader. If you have read this book or are in the process and are looking for more, he has several sequels that just continue to open your mind and eyes: "The Story of B" and "My Ishmael". (i have just finished "My Ishmael" and it is truly astounding. Has a lot to say about public schooling, which I found insightful and specifically applicable.)
With doubts towards our parking lot friend and no other reasons to stay in Portland we decided to move on down to Linfield campus to re-visit some friends we had seen in Seattle, then onwards to Waldport to visit Ben's family on the Oregon Coast.

-Sam

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