Portland

Portland Stag Sign

Showers, real Internet and a bed, in that order, please. Back in the big city, after eight nights in the boonies. We kept to the plan, but I was sorely tempted to upgrade from our rather mosquito infested campsite to the lodge at Crater Lake. We stayed strong though, even though we spent almost half as much as we would have for a room on a rather sumptuous dinner there. Halfway through our visit to the lake another tourist commented, “There must have been 10,000 photos taken of that lake today.” To which Anne retorted, “And those our just ours.” Sorry for the mix-up on the Crater Lake post, bad cell.

We drove northwest to Portland. Anne did the first half, all twisty-turny through the mountains and I did the Five. I’m pleased with our motel. It’s on the cheap side of the river. We walked across the bridge to the trendier part of town, the Pearl District. After traipsing about town, we found a decent place to eat, Tanner Creek Tavern. I originally read the Creek as Greek and was mystified that they didn’t have gyros. They did have good food though. We shared four small plates, a cold and sweet strawberry and beet soup, roasted snap peas, garnished with wasabi peas, lamb meatballs and ceviche. For dessert, we shared Hummingbird cake. Anne later read in one of our travel guides that Portland is the petri dish of cuisine. That description didn’t settle well. After dinner, we explored Powell’s, the last great bricks and mortar bookstore in America. Anne bought Kathy’s Scottish quilting book there among others. 

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