When trying to use the airport code abbreviation for Portland – PDX – the iPhone changed it something incomprehensible. PVC? Whatever.
I had a single goal – and I must admit, I’m very impressed with Portland’s mass transit. Like the fabled Tube of London, only, above ground. Out in the open. Folks friendly and giving directions and everything. Took three tries, a series of comic mistakes, one wrong bell boy, and I found the place. Mills End Park.
Because I spend a lot of time with individuals, I tend to judge a place, like Portland, by its people. Love the place. Bonus: good transportation. Although, I never did figure out who took the tickets or if it was an honor system, reminiscent of Amsterdam. Flowers were positively iridescent, with one cherry blossom tree, down by the university, just over-the-top colorful.
Last Monday was Old Mexico, Thursday was fishing in Bastrop, the weekend in Portland, OR, and then, on the way home? Stop in Las Vegas. Bus-stop tour of the Western United States: Mt. Hood, Mt. Adams, Mt. Rainier, all visible, after clearing the Grand Canyon.
Portland? A very cool place.
Next weekend? I’m hoping to take my Dad fishing, down at the Gulf.
“Wear white after Easter?”
Who knew it would be snowing in Oregon. And me, with shorts on. It’s late April, after tax day, no snow, right?