Our flight to Tucson couldn't have gone more smoothly. Our taxi arrived on time, we were at the check-in counter by 5, and thanks to being both TSA pre-checked this time around, we were through security and eyeing the options at Stumptown by 5:20. We'd probably have been fine arriving an hour later, this time.
Our itinerary included a brief stopover in Seattle, which felt odd given that Seattle and Tucson are diametrically opposed from Portland. The main thing though was that we made our connecting flight, and our luggage arrived with us in Tucson. We arrived at our motel too early to check in, so we walked a few blocks to the eclectic Five Points Cafe for a light lunch before returning to the motel to check in and begin working on the bikes.
Portland has the best airport! Everything is open at 5 AM. At Stumptown Coffee, a competent pianist plays Clair de Lune and Bring in the Clowns on a baby grand. Very soothing.
We passed Mount Hood on our way back over Oregon from Seattle. Not the most efficient route, flying north to go south, but without that we wouldn't have gotten this great view of the mountain.j
Wall art at the Downtown Clifton, our motel in Tucson. This city has some pretty wonderful murals. I'm looking forward to walking the streets for a more leisurely look when we return at the end of the tour.
There is always some apprehension about unpacking and reassembling the Bike Fridays. Did we forget anything this time? Was anything damaged? I was done with Rachael's and just finishing with mine, happy to see that we had no issues for a change, when I was crestfallen to reinsert the seat post and discover that the clamp to tighten it in place was missing. It must have gotten dislodged from the frame in packing. I checked and double checked everwhere without success.
Not quite panicked yet but certainly filled with anxiety, I rode Rachael's bike to the best bike store in town, hoping that the part was standard and in stock. It is, and it was. Hooray - our trip is still on!
Later when gathering up all of the packing materials to leave behind at the motel I found the collar after all, jammed down in the felt stocking I pack the seat post and saddle in - the first place I thought to look when it turned up missing, but somehow I overlooked it. So, as far as we know now it was a perfect packing job but a poor show of unpacking. Could be worse.
Looks like just an Ordinary bike shop, but I think it's pretty special. They had the replacement for my misplaced seat post clamp.
The misplaced seat post clamp, found only after I'd already spent eight bucks purchasing a replacement for it. Annoying and dumb, but I at least felt better knowing I hadn't left it at home after all.
For dinner, we walked to nearby Casa Vicente, an appealing, authentic Spanish restaurant run by a couple from northern Spain. They feature live artists on the weekend, and their walls are a virtual art gallery of oils on the theme of Spain and flamenco. Tonight's lineup was a guitarist, starting at 7; followed by a flamenco act at 8 and a second one at 9.
The meal was terrific - it was especially a treat to start with a bowl of Andalucian gazpacho - but the music was a big disappointment, Two large and loud dining parties dominated the room, drowning out any real hope for hearing music. The guitarist came on stage at 7:30, played one number, and gave up. Maybe we'll try our luck again at the end of the tour.
