We started the day ready for a batch of bridges.
The plan was to ride Springwater Corridor and the Tilikum Bridge.
We renamed the Tilikum bridge Andy's bridge because my friend Andy told us to ride it. We ventured off to Andy's bridge and what a delight. She's pretty, she's tall, she's fast!
NO CARS ALOWD! Its a bike and pedestrian bridge which was really nice and felt so safe.
We continued on our ride through Springwater Corridor and the waterfront. It was gorgeous. We passed Ross Island and other bodies of water with various boat ramps.
At some point, we both needed more water. Dena spotted a 7-11 in the distance and so we stopped. Of course, I needed to pee. The 7-11 had water but no public bathroom. We found a Chevron in the distance and knew it was the potty solution for which we longed.
On the front door there was a sign that said:
"You must buy something to use the bathroom." I bought something.
Just below that sign, was another sign.
It read: "Pregnancy & Alcohol DO NOT MIX..." I stole the image below from the Oregon.gov website because I did not have my phone with me during the 7-11 visit to capture this.
It made me wonder, "What goes on at this Chevron? Is it just a wild band of pregnant moms crushing wine coolers in the parking lot so they had to put an end to it and post this sign?" I mean, there are many warnings that can accompany alchohol purchasee but this seemed to be a very specific one to post and I felt there was a story.
After reading all the signs and following all the rules I could, I approached the cashier who appeared to be "affected" by drugs or alchohol or maybe his mom drank alcohol he was in the womb.
I am unsure about the issue but he was talking to himself, itching himself and yelling a lot. He was doing just about everything behind that cashier except helping people make a purchase.
I paid (using the electronic checkout, with zero help from him)
and asked:
"May I have the bathroom key?"
He said: "I can't give you the key. The man outside needs to give you the key.
I said "Is he the Bathroom Czar?"
He bellowed out a huge laugh and said: "ahhhhh yes, the bathroom czar, he is the only one that can give the key. He is the bathroom Czar!"
I went outside to find the bathroom czar and sure enough a man, in a Chevron uniform, was pirched on the stoop, next to the ice machine holding a set of keys.
I asked him: "May I have the bathroom key?" (I was very skeptical this request would be fulfilled"
He said: "If I give this key to everyone, my bathroom would be a disaster. I'll open it for you"
I said thank you and followed him to the bathroom.
He opened it and as I went in he said "FYI, this is a bad neighborhood"
I thanked him for the warning and complimented him on his pristine bathroom.
It was quite clean.
It made me wonder,
"Is this his only job?
Does he sit out there all day controlling the comings and goings of the bathroom?
Has he ever denied anyone the privilege of potty?
Is HE the one who cleans the bathroom?
Is this bathroom his office where he operates "other" businesses?
Is the reason we needed to keep it clean was so he can maintain healthy conditions for his daily transactions? "
I didn't ask. I'll always wonder. I moved on.
We were back on the path to finish our ride.
We rode another 5 miles when I felt a familiar feeling in my back of my bike...FLAT TIRE!
I pulled to the side and sure enough, it was flat. Since it was a rental and not my normal bike style, I didn't bring my normal batch of bike fix-it goodies. I called the rental place.
They were kind, responsive and said Charlie would be there in 30 minutes. He said we were 7 miles from their store and Charlie will be there in 30 minutes.
This timing confused me. It seemed they could be there sooner given our mutual locations but I was grateful for the help so we found a shaded area, and took a break while we waited for Charlie.
40 minutes went by, and no Charlie.
The bike man gave me Charlie's cell phone number and I sent Charlie a pin on the map, a video of our location and the address of our location including a couple easy to spot geographic signs.
10 more minutes went by and Charlie called. Charlie was a girl! I was thinking Charlie was a bike dude driving a truck with a new bike and fix it gear in the back.
When I answered SHE said "I am at the corner of 17th and Milwaukie"
I said: "I am at the corner of 17th and McLoughlin, not Milwaukie"
Charlie said, "Great, I'll be there, probably 15 minutes"
This timing confused me because I had just ridden past that area and believed she was 5 minutes away but, hey, it's not my city and these locals know their stuff.
20 minutes went by and the bike shop called.
He said: "Can you give me an exact address? Charlie went to the other "17th and McLoughlin that is downtown?"
What the what? There are 2 intersections with same names in the same city?
I gave him the exact address AGAIN and he said, OK Charlie will be there in 15 minutes.
10 minutes later, a vibrant, smiling, and tough-as-nails Charlie came rolling up ON HER BIKE to greet us! The timing was so off was because she was RIDING A BIKE!
She was not in a car. She was not a man hauling bikes. She was a lady named Charlie who was hauling ass to 3 different places, on a bike, in the middle of this record heat! She is my new hero.
I took Charlie's bike. She took mine. She brought her own fix it kit and stitched that thing back to shape on the streets of Portland like a boss. I later texted and asked her Venmo so I could give her a tip.
That was some serious commitment. I might have quit after the second miss.
We got back on the road and it was approaching 90 degrees.
We sped back to the car to beat the afternoon sun.
We made it back to the car before we boiled over.
25 miles of goodness and even with a flat tire and an odd bathroom break, we had a succesful day 1.
As I turned the car on I noticed a small white piece of paper under the windshield. It was not large enough to be a parking ticket, plus we followed the parking rules to a tee-today at least.
Could it be a note from a secret admirer?
I got out, pulled it off the windshield:
It said: "I'm so sorry I hit your car. Left back side. Her phone number (blacked out in pic to protect our new responsible citizen friend MARIA"
We inspected the damage, just a small scuff, but still something to which Aunt Dena needed to tend when we got back to the house.
Dena called Maria.
Maria had insurance.
Dena is workng on connecting all the proper people at rental car place, Maria's insurance and local police department We were so grateful she fessed up in her non secret admirer-er dashboard note.
Our bike adventure for the day had ended and we were able to shower and relax for a bit before the next adventure.
Our evening event was to go to the world famous Powell's Bookstore and First Thursday in Pearl District.
Powell's was everything we hoped and more.
It was big, it was nostalgic. It was cold.
We need the AC cranked.
It did not disappoint.
We each got some books and carried on.
First Thursday in Pearl District is a community gathering of artists, food vendors, and live music.
We wandered in and out of shops.
One shop vendor warned us never to drink the water from the public water fountains.
We found a super cute wine bar called Battlecreek Cellars. We sidled up to the bar and I got a glass of wine, while Aunt Dena got a glass of the coldest most delicious looking ginger ale I've ever seen. The servers were kind and my wine was delish.
We were happy for yet another dose of air conditioning.
When we left the wine bar at 7:00 PM and was 95 degrees.
We took one final pass of First Thursday and were happy to find a man who writes custom poems but sad that he was not at his booth.
We found a cookie stand, each bought one and hit the road.
Despite all the exciting twists and turns, bike ride day one was a huge success.
We were happy to go back to our place, rest our eyes and pedaling legs and go to bed, while it was still light outside. A perfect vaation...so far.
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