The Dream of the Nineties is Alive in Portland

Whew! We arrived in Portland. That was one long train ride. Left late Friday night, arrived at 10:00 Monday morning. As long as it took, it was a much better experience than flying. We had leg room, we could walk to "The Dome" car, where the windows curved up into the ceiling for expansive views. We slowly chugged through the rockies. And we met a whole bunch of interesting folks. (Two of them took too long at a stop and got left behind! One guy paid $150 for a ride to the next station, and got a speeding ticket on the way.)

Listening to Helplessness Blues while rolling through the Cascade Mountains nearly brought this nature lover to tears. Really feels like we're in the promised land. I still have trouble wrapping my head around the one-way ticket idea. And being from the Pacific Northwest, I've longed to get back for such a long time--to the point of idealizing the region, maybe setting myself up for disappointment (though I doubt that).

Mt. Hood

We were going to go straight to Bend, but decided last minute to hang out in the Rose City for the day. Walked over to a Whole Foods for lunch with our new friend Jackson (he was on layover en route to a ski trip). He had his skate board so we walked across town to the Burnside Skate Park.

Jackson at Burnside Skatepark

Now we're back at Union Station waiting on Donnie, a helicopter mechanic we met on the train, to pick us up with his rental car and drive over to a hostel on Hawthorne.

So far so good!