Back from Portland

The boy had our itinerary all planned and set out on a spreadsheet.  The oldest daughter at Multnomah Falls, Powell's Bookstore, and Cathedral Coffee. 

Lou, the pictures from Shasta Lake didn't turn out, as we were zipping by too fast and the guardrail was right at eye level since we were using the Buick sedan, and not the taller Dodge truck.  However, I can report that although there is still a bit of a bathtub ring on the lake, it isn't very big.  The lake is definitely full.  And, it spit snow at us coming back yesterday at Mount Shasta.

I honked coming through Anderson.

The drive was epically long both ways, but no car trouble and my passengers were entertaining, to say the least.  However, the CHP tagged me at Weed.  The Oregon Highway Patrol, who have a reputation for picking on Californians, have always left me alone, and this trip was no exception.

I had fun in Oregon whenever I had to gas up by immediately getting out of the car at the station (it's illegal in that state to pump your own gas), and scaring them into thinking I was going to try to do it myself.  Then, when the attendent ran over to keep me from gassing my own car, I'd just hold a nice conversation with them as they did the job.  Made them nervous every time.

There was a "Kinkfest" going on in Portland while we were there, and our hotel was full of, shall we say, interesting people.   Riding the elevator down with a gal in full leather clothing, bright pink hair and a three foot furry tail sticking out of her hind end was, well, weird even for Portland. 

The weather was sunny, then rainy, then sunny, then rainy.  The boy says that's par for the course.   I like that sort of changeable climate.

Portland itself was gorgeous, the people were friendly, and we all had a fine time.

Great trip, but glad to be back.  Hotel beds are always way too hard to sleep well, at least for me.