Coffee dates

June 27, 2023 to June 29, 2023

Surprisingly, I have a string of three straight coffee dates this week. I tend to keep to myself, so this might be a new PR - at least for the years since I retired from the office and would often take breaks with coworkers. Rachael has taken to calling me a social butterfly, which is pretty funny.

Tuesday

It’s another Tuesday meetup with Bruce at the Clinton Street Coffeehouse, a place that would probably my preferred morning haunt if it were closer to home - I especially like their free coffee refills and bagels with peanut butter. The weather is fine again this morning and I enjoy the fresh feel of the early morning air as I ride across the Hawthorne Bridge. And I like the way I feel this morning, traveling light and casually wearing street clothes and sandals with my rucksack on my back, the normal way I would travel around town for years when I was younger. It brings back pleasant memories and tricks me into feeling youthful.

Bruce comes, two rounds of caffeine get consumed, and soon enough we’re on the sidewalk while I unlock the Rodriguez, considering whether there’s time to fit in another round before we leave for Canada. Later, we’ll conclude that of course there is.

It’s important to secure your belongings in a place like this. There’s no telling who might walk by and what their intentions might be.

I take my time biking home along a familiar route - west on Clinton to the riverfront, north to the Steel Bridge this time, and then along Naito to 9th Avenue and the northern gateway to the Pearl District. I’ve been enjoying our stay here more than I expected this summer, easily falling into old routines and refamiliarizing myself with the terrain again.

The pavement is lively beside the Opera Center. If you weren’t familiar with it already it would be hard to recognize this is a bike route.

The massive, 12 ton sculpture by Lee Kelly, a renowned NW sculptor who died last year, was placed here to commemorate the opening of the new home for PNCA, the Pacific Northwest College of Art.

PNCA moved here into the remodeled former federal post office in 2015. Before that the college was practically our northwest neighbor, in a warehouse on a block that’s since been replaced by a high rise condominium.

Rachael’s feeling off and lying down when I get home, and mostly ends up taking a rare and badly needed day off, though later she’ll take a relaxed walk along the waterfront on the new promenade beyond the Fremont Bridge we saw a few days ago. With the afternoon on my own I decide it’s the right time to take off again on the bike, over to the east side once more for an errand at the credit union. Afterwards, finding myself still shy of a decent workout myself, I round the day’s total up a few miles with a trip over to Lucky Lab for a slice and a pint.

The Steel Bridge a second way, from the Broadway Bridge.

Wednesday

Today it’s a date with Elizabeth again, once more at Cafe Umbria. As is our standard, I arrive early and score a table by the window onto Everett Street, her favorite seating. It’s another fine visit, much of it spent discussing dad and how he’s adapting to his recent move into assisted living. I’m anxious to see for myself when we drop in on him on our way to Vancouver next week. as we leave, we consider whether there’s time for she, Rachael and I to get together for dinner again before we leave for Canada, and later conclude that of course there is.

It’s nearing eleven and Rachael’s gone on her bike by the time I get back to the room. She’s feeling better today, well enough that she’ll roll in later bragging about the 48 miles she put in. I’d like to put in 48 miles too of course, but by the time I get mobilized and out the door it’s enough just to make a fifteen mile loop north to the Saint Johns Bridge and back.

The Saint Johns Bridge again. It really wouldn’t be right to come back to town without a trip out here.

I’m in luck and the sternwheeler American Empress is just passing beneath the bridge when I cross, returning from a cruise up the Columbia. The largest overnight riverboat operating west of the Mississippi, it runs cruises to Clarkston on the Snake River.

The American Empress requires enough clearance to force up the lift span on the Burlington Northern bridge. It must take some coordination to fit into the Amtrak and freight schedules.

The cathedral-like supports of the Saint Johns Bridge are getting a face lift.

I should have taken note of what this building on Pittsburgh Street below the bridge is. Careless.

One monarch contemplates another, on Pittsburgh Street.

Another look at the Burlington Northern Bridge, our third this week.

the bridge across the tracks on Willamette needs maintenance.

Thursday

It’s off to Clinton Street again, this time to meet with a total stranger: Jonathan, a Portlander who follows the blog because he has nothing better to do with his time apparently and suggested we get together. He lets me down though, and doesn’t show up with the NYT tucked under his arm with the crossword puzzle exposed like I instructed so I’ll recognize him - I’ve read too many spy novels, obviously. He recognizes me though from the blog, so I take him at his word and we spend the next hour sharing experiences, discussing the joys of growing older, and gossiping about other folks on the site that we both follow. It’s pretty surprising really how much of my social life stems from this silly blog.

Along the waterfront. This seems to be their spot - they were crowding the path here on Tuesday too.

An impressive sticker collage, Clinton Street Theater.

The Burnside Bridge is waving its arms at me when I bike past. I wonder if I’m going to be held up when I get to the Steel Bridge, but then it lowers its arms again so maybe it was all just a drill. Soon though I hear the alarm from the Steel Bridge, and it’s lifting its skirts for some ridiculous little catamaran, probably the toy of some multimillionaire who gets his jollies by cruising through and impressing his friends by forcing the bridge into action.

As good an excuse as any to take a shot of the Burnside Bridge.

This is no American Empress. I’d be embarrassed. Don’t these vessels have contractible antennae?

Well, we all wanted a different angle on this bridge anyway. Right?

I had big plans for my afternoon ride: a loop out the river and down the I-205 bike path to Springwater, which I think must be around 40 miles but it’s been so long since I’ve taken it that I’ve forgotten for sure. The main point of the loop is to test out the bike path, to see if it feels safe yet - and it does, sort of. There’s still some work to be done though, and I wouldn’t recommend it just yet for Rachael for example.

The ride ends up a bit of a bust though, because I’m an idiot. I stop near Mayfield park for a hydration break, because I think hydration and electrolytes are an important consideration for my condition. I’m stopped taking a swig and reach to my pannier to pull out the phone, but it’s not there. And neither is my wallet, or my tool kit, or my spare tube, or my entire pannier. I loaded it up right before leaving, but like a daft idjut forgot to mount it on my bike. No wonder the riding seemed so effortless! I change my plan and take the most direct way home: west on Burnside and then east on the back street bike boulevards, worrying the whole way about getting a flat with no way to get hold of Rachael for a rescue.

For herself, Rachael elects to test out the LA Fitness Center, thinking it might be a good fit for a month’s membership when we come back for my surgery. She enjoys an intense workout in a cycle class, and is surprised to see that the instructor is one she had a decade ago at the Courthouse.

So how many shots of this peak is too many, anyway? In any case, here’s one more.

The fountain in Mayfield Park: for Bruce, who likes squirrels.

Today's ride: 64 miles (103 km)
Total: 375 miles (604 km)

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Bob KoreisOkay, there have been at least two mentions recently of the Lucky Lab. Feels like you are teasing. I miss that place, no longer living down near that part of the world.
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