Recouping in Portland

Kevin and I got very conveniently swept up from that Bar and Grill and got a ride the rest of the 25 miles to Portland. So out of the 200 or so miles from Seattle to Portland, we did 175 of them. Not bad. The roads getting into Portland would have been hectic and confusing anyway, especially after that day. Jodie, our very accommodating host, took us out to dinner after showers, to this great brew pub on Hawthorne where I ran into a barista from my favorite coffee shop in Boulder. Bizarre.

The next day, Kevin and I wandered around aimlessly and eventually got to talking about how, although as friends we get along great, in terms of traveling/living, were maybe not as compatible as we hoped. I like my vegetables cut in big chunks, he likes them small and neatly diced. When annoyed, I get quiet and direct, he gets jittery. Which pisses me off. Which makes him submissive and overly-accommodating. Which pisses me off more. When he's in a bad mood, he wants a hug. When I'm in a bad mood, I don't want to be touched. So building and stewing, we both admitted that traveling together was a huge expenditure of social energy for both of us- energy that we dont necessarily have to spare after riding 50 miles and problem solving, fixing chains, getting lost and unlost and riding alongside hectic traffic with bad knees all day. So we toyed with the idea of parting ways. For a leg of the trip at least.

Thinking of what I WOULD do if we did decide to go different directions, I called Vicki and Joel- old family friends who live in Corvallis. Vicki picked up and said it would be great to have me. Not just that but is it possible I could get there before 5 on Saturday because Joel is playing percussion in a Latin band that night, opening for Bobby McFerrin. Umm... Yes!!
So I scrounged for a ride on craigslist- mid Costa Rican fusion, food cart meal on park benches- and emailed as many people as I could, not to hear back from them until this morning. I'm getting picked up at 2. Perfect! Crazy how these things play out.

So Kevin is in a sensory deprivation saline float tank at some hole-in-the-wall we stumbled upon last night, and I'm at my temporary sanctuary- a great cafe down the street with lots of varied sitting options and free refills, waiting for the bike shop to open up so I can get my derailer tweaked.
The funny thing is I feel settled having this plan but it only takes account for the next 2 days or so and after that, I have no idea what I'm going to do. Time stretches out at times like this and knowing where I'll be sleeping any given night is a luxury. Amidst the rises and falls (I definitely had a fall yesterday- a "why am I here? This is stupid. I want to be home, watch Love Actually and make dinner with my mom. Fuck this" moment), I love this type of traveling. And in Portland, equipped with a wallet and a rain jacket, what's the worst that could happen really? Although thats not a challenge.