Westmoreland Asays

I'm officially car-free. The towing company hooked up the G20 and hauled him away to greener pastures this afternoon; at least he got to ride with a fellow Infiniti (an i30) that was being taken at the same time. This was of course part of my big bike-for-car trade . I'm still surprised at how informal the whole process was. I didn't sign a single form (save signing the title of the car over to the charity), never had to show my ID, and there were definitely no lawyers present for any of it.  Both parties just did what we agreed to do--how old-fashioned. I'm writing this a few weeks after the fact, so I can report that I haven't had any problems living without a car--haven't even dreamed about owning another one or worried about having to walk, bike, hitchhike, or ride the bus somewhere.

I shot Hood-to-Coast racers again in 2010. Since I've already written about the experience here and here , I won't bore you with the details of the job; instead I'll talk about some of the competitors I met and post the pictures I took of them (when available). I don't have pictures to accompany these guys, but I saw two one-armed runners, one one-legged runner, and one blind runner. I probably scared the crap out of the blind guy when I hopped out of my chair to photograph him, as I was stationed at a pretty remote spot, on a private logging road, but he seemed to figure out who I was and what I was doing. What I found funny was that about three minutes later his hunchbacked escort ran by. Shouldn't they have been running together, or maybe even the guide out in front to keep the path clear? This woman cradled her boobs and shouted "Team handful!" for me as I took her picture. My first reaction was that she was boasting of her bounteous endowment, may

Meg organized a fabulous four-day trip to Bend to celebrate our decade of marriage. She even let me join her in celebrating the festivities. Meg's sister, Nichole, stayed at our place for three of those days taking care of the wild ones, and her Mom and Dad controlled their fury for the final day at their estate. We had a riverside room at the Shilo Inn, but other than sleeping we didn't spend much time here. We hung out near the inn on Friday, eating dinner at McGrath's and embarking on the annual hunt for a new pair of sunglasses for Meg. We walked about two miles Saturday morning into downtown Bend, exploring the area and buying homemade soap at the underwhelming Saturday Market. I eventually left Meg, running back to the Inn along the Deschutes (for as long as I could) to bring the car and swimsuits, as we wanted to float down the river in tubes. We failed to find a place just by walking and driving around, so we took in two movies at the Old Mill. Meg wanted

From 10-Year Anniversary Eating and Walking the Neighborhood Ten years ago Meg and I formalized our relationship before God and Country. To celebrate we went on a walking and eating tour of Sellwood/Westmoreland. Despite the 95 degree heat scorching our necks, we had lots of fun just being together (cheesy but true). We shared every dish because we're socialists. 1. Gyoza at Stickers Asian Cafe ($6) 2. Philly Cheese Steak Sandwich at Philadelphia's ($3.75) 3. Chocolate Truffle Cake at Papa Haydn ($10) 4. Bottle caps and Runts at Plaid Pantry ($3) 5. Red Snapper Nigiri Rolls, Veggie Rolls at Mio Sushi ($6) 6. Chantilly Cupcake at Piece of Cake ($3.50) (best cupcake ever) 7. Chips and salsa and Chicharron Pupusa at El Palenque ($12) (very good--thanks for the idea, Dave Johnson) 8. Gelato at Staccato Gelato ($3.75) And Meg was worried that we would run out of places to visit. From 10-Year Anniversary Eating and Walking the Neighborhood

It all started with a tweet. The tweet guided me to a blog. The blog inspired me to craft an e-mail. The e-mail led to a phone call. And the phone call led to my agreeing to trade my 1993.5 Infiniti G20 for a 2010 Black Sheep commuter bike (1 of only 13 in existence). All of this happened within 24 hours. From New Bike An informal part of our agreement to move to Portland was for me to get rid of my car, since I had committed to biking or riding the bus to work--and I never did drive the G20 once we moved to Portland, except once every other week or so to keep the fluids moving through the car. I had posted my car for sale at the G20 enthusiasts' site , but I didn't get any substantial bites, nor did I do much to promote its sale (Meg would like me to remind you that I took a year to sell my del Sol after buying the Maxima ). So when I saw a blog post about New Belgium's car swap at the Tour de Fat , I called Meg and proposed the idea to her. She thought it sounde

From Random Summer Weekend in the Neighborhood While I was stuck at church doing clerk work this afternoon, the following conversation took place when a neighborhood friend knocked on our door (via Meg, who was resting in bed at the time): Neighborhood Friend : Can you come out and play? Aaron : No, I can't play on Sunday. Neighborhood Friend : Why not? Aaron : Don't you believe in God? It's like one of the commandments. Eddie : I don't believe in God. I can play! And this coming from the kid who wants to grow up to be a prophet.