Westmoreland Asays

The last weekend in August means Hood-to-Coast time. 2011 marked the the sixth time I've participated; you can read about my past experiences here: 2006 , 2008 , 2009 , 2010 (I competed for the first time in 2004, but I have no good, written record of it). This event squeezes out the creative juices in me--some of my best posts are memories from HTC--almost to the point where I feel like my proprietor is paying me to blog the event, not to photograph the participants, because I need photos to supplement the crazies I encounter on the course. I drew the same assignment as last year: legs 5 and 35. Leg 5 always feels like torture because of the closeness to vehicles traveling at speeds fast enough to escape the earth's gravitational pull--including many semi-trucks hauling hay to the cows in the Willamette Valley--but this year was especially bad because I had to endure two hours of morning rain. The logging road that has been used in the past for leg 35 was being used for log

The Multnomah County Library awards discounted ride bracelets to Oaks Park for kids who complete their summer reading program, which all three boys easily earned. Meg took the older two during the afternoon (Ian went to a friend's house), while Aaron and I rode our bikes through Oaks Bottom and the Springwater Corridor in the evening for a little more action (Ed declined a second visit). I didn't write about it, but last year Meg and I stole away one evening for a brief interlude at Oaks Park and rode the ferris wheel and maybe some other rides. I don't recall if I declined to ride the more involved rides or not, but we didn't do anything too crazy. But Aaron wanted me to go on every ride with him, which included the scary ones. Oaks Park has perhaps the least scariest rides in America, but they still bother me greatly (I'm becoming such an old man). I still have strong memories of Lagoon many years ago, where my body literally would not calm down. But today I h

Today was the first day of the year where the mercury climbed above 90 degrees. That might sound shocking to some, but the record for Portland is actually October 5 , which I experienced but don't remember happening in 1980. I prefer the temperate and cool climate of the Willamette Valley, so I'm like in the one percentile of people in Oregon who is enjoying summer this year. Because the weather is the only true way to judge how good the summer is. Meg's friend Susan was visiting her family in Sherwood, so she let us tag along and go swimming in her family's pool. The boys were so excited they got into their swimsuits around noon, even though they knew we weren't leaving until after 5:00, and even though Meg takes them several times a week to the Sellwood community pool. Some of Susan's nieces, about Ed and Aaron's age, were also there, and everyone seemed to get along well and enjoy the company. Unfortunately, there was only one magic sword on the pre

Similar to last year's day-of-the-event celebration , we did a walking/eating tour of Sellwood and Westmoreland. A friend from work graciously volunteered to come over and watch the boys. We also added a movie in the mix: Cowboys and Aliens , which started out well enough, but faded quickly. After the movie we went next door to Limelight Lounge where they had a great deal: three steak tacos for four bucks. But Meg opted for some portabello mushroom sandwiches. We then walked next door to the Moreland House for fries covered in blue cheese and bacon. Bacon makes everything taste better. Next up was Papaya Thai, but they were closed for renovations, so we walked down to Sellwood near our old house and visited the Jade Teahouse . Meg had been here before (without me? for shame), and I had heard other people rave about the place. The building is always packed--inside and out, even on weekdays--so that's a good sign, right? But I left underwhelmed. Who invited this guy?

We Drove All Night We spent a week in Utah visiting a seemingly countless stream of  friends and family (most of whom are Oregon ex-pats). I always thought Meg's desire to drive to Utah during the night was crazy. But after experiencing it twice now, I have changed my opinion. The kids slept most of the way, it was cooler out, there was much less noise and traffic, and losing a day of sleep isn't that bad. Except for stops to expel our bladders (Eddie didn't go once) and re-fill the van's gas tank, we drove straight-thru, finally stopping at the Tremonton McDonald's for breakfast (I skipped, of course). Boy, did we make that place look classy. Emmeline, the chicken poet Jesus made the chickens healthy so we'd be happy. Upon arrival Monday morning at my brother's house in the Sugar House neighborhood of Salt Lake City, Meg immediately retreated to the basement to take a nap. But the rest of us took some time to get to know the 14 chickens that li