SMELL THE ROSES AND THE HOPS

Tuesday we decided to go into Portland and take a look around.  Neither of us has been here before.  Typically, after our morning walk, ablutions, breakfast, internet, and map/guidebook perusing, we shot the whole morning.  So, instead of using the public transportation, we fired up the scoot and took it in.  First thing we had to do was to find the only CVS-associated pharmacy in all of Oregon.  I figured I better not run out of Lipitor if I was going to continue the quest for butterfat.  I was expecting your usual stand-alone CVS building, but we nearly missed the thing.  It was in an old brick building (in a tenement row of same) on a heavily treed two-lane street, with a tiny sign.  Turns out it was only a pharmacy, not a general “store” like most drugstores.  There’s only one in the state of Washington as well, in a suburb of Seattle.  Anyway, we got the good drugs, and decided it was time to put them to use.  Lunch!

When in Rome . . .  Oregon is the home of more craft breweries per capita than anywhere in the world.  Bridgeport is Oregon’s oldest craft brewer, and they didn’t let us down.  We’re both hopheads, and Oregon is the land of hops, more being grown here than anywhere in the country.  Loni had an IPA, and I had an ESB (extra special bitter), accompanied by one of the best pizzas we’ve ever had, with home-smoked chicken and bacon, an outrageously good hops-infused barbecue sauce, green onions, and fresh tomatoes.  Yum!

Amply fortified, time for some refinement.  We cruised around a few streets to get a feel for the place, then headed for Washington Park, home of the International Rose Test Garden and the Portland Japanese Garden.  Both overlook the city, with a view to the east of Mt. Hood trying to peak above the low clouds. 

This time of year the Rose Garden was well past its peak, but there were pockets of some varieties that were going strong.  We took our own advice (is she trying to smell it or eat it?:

Just a hundred yards up the road is the Japanese Garden. 

This had to be one of the most serene spots we’ve ever been in.  It’s set on a hill in stands of huge fir trees, and includes the traditional gravel gardens,

intimate water features,

seasonal tree color,

and stunningly peaceful scenes.

We sat on the provided benches throughout the park and just tried to absorb all this beauty.  It was incredibly relaxing.  A good thing, too, because the ride back to the RV park found us in commuting traffic which just crawled for miles.  It’s one thing to sit in an air-conditioned car;  it’s quite another to sit on a scoot in the blazing sun (yes, it was 84 degrees in Portland in late September) with a helmet doing its best crockpot imitation on your skull.  We were drenched with sweat and very happy to see our mobile cabin.  Ah, sweet shade.