September the 10th.

The day, as indicated above, was September the 10th.  It was just like any other day, in that the sun came up, I woke up, time continued marching onward with unflinching progress.

As I said, I woke up.  Earlier than I meant to.  Man, grammar is not normally my strong point, but this stuff is awful so far.  I'd blame it on being tired, but I don't think that I am.  Or, at least, I don't feel like I should be.

Anyway, on to the events of the 10th!

I spent the morning recounting the events of the prior day to myself in my adventure journal for future (now past, but probably still future) reference.  After that, I left my friend's apartment and headed for parts mostly known. 

This included a stop at Multnomah Falls.  Though, what trip along the Columbia River Gorge can not include a stopover at the falls?  Am I right?  I'll take your enduring silence as confirmation, thank you very much.

Why am I so sarcastic right now?

I'm leaving that as is, but there will be a definite tone shift in the words and sentences to follow--though, not necessarily an improvement in the grammar.

I parked my truck, I headed under the freeway and through the little tunnel over to the falls, going straight for the first viewpoint. 

For those of you who read this that have not been to the falls, I highly recommend it--if for no other reason than the storybook bridge crossing the lower falls, backed by the majestically towering upper falls.  Okay, so really that's the reason to go, to see the falls.

Here's a close-up.

As I approached the bridge, I decided to do something that I had not done in the two, count them, two times that I had been there before.  Namely, to hike up to the upper lookout.

It was a narrow, treacherous (paved) trail, with eleven deadly switchbacks.  And a few benches to stop and rest at along the way.  Each of the switchbacks was numbered.  As I ascended the path, it was fairly easy to gauge progress by the switchbacks.  At one point there was a group ahead of me that turned back between numbers 7 and 8.  I thought they were just tired, and I felt a little bad for them--but I didn't want to seem arrogant and try to goad them on.  What did make me feel worse, though, was that momentarily I reached the 9th switchback--and the trail crested.  It was down hill from there.  The trail had reached the top of the hill, and was heading down the backside toward the lookout platform.  I really wished that I had given the other hikers some friendly encouragement.

Maybe the following can give you some perspective on how high up this was:

Shortly thereafter, I turned and headed back down the mountain.

After I rounded switchback number 9, the descent went by astonishingly quickly.

Once I had rearrived at the bottom viewing platform, a group of tourists asked me about the hike up.  I advised them that it hadn't been treacherous, but I also discouraged those in flip flops from attempting it.  It was the thought of the front part of the sole curling under on the steeper portions of the trail that caused me to discourage.  I still think it was for the best.

A few feet closer to the parking lot, and I saw the three hikers who had turned back.  Feeling affable, I decided to talk to them.  I let them know that I had seen them turn back, and offered them my camera for viewing the images taken from the top.  They explained to me that they hadn't turned back out of tiredness at all, but because one of their party was afraid of heights.  She actually swooned a little just from looking at the pictures on the 3.0" screen of the camera.  After all that, I'm pretty sure they made the right choice.

Making my way back toward the parking lot, and more specifically my truck, I headed once more through the tiled tunnel, turned around, and took this picture.

I like it.  It's neat.

Not much new or different happened between then and Portland.  Well, except for the fact that I didn't make it to Portland.  I wasn't paying enough attention and wound up on the 205 south, which was just as well.  My next goal was the Fry's Electronics.

I needed a new memory card for my camera.  I know, I know, I've got two 4 gb cards, but was worried about filling them up.  My laptop was with me, but I had sort of decided that I was willing to spend what(ever) was necessary to not have to download pictures to that as a temporary solution.  You see, that laptop is about 10 years old, and tops out at USB 1.1.  So, the prospect of downloading pictures to it, then reacquiring them at some dismal point in the future was not exactly hopeful.



So, the plan was to get a new memory card that would be able to tide me over until I got back home and could download everything.  I found the Fry's easily enough, found a 16 gb compact flash card, then got the crazy idea to look at laptops.  After all, no sales tax in Oregon, right?

You'll be happy to know that I did not make a several hundred dollar impulse buy at the thought of saving 50-100 dollars.  But the bug was firmly planted, and I decided to head over to the nearby Costco to see if they had anything more to my liking.  They didn't.  At all.  There was a Best Buy, in the neighborhood, though... and they didn't have anything, either.

I really didn't have anything on my agenda for the rest of the day, other than meeting up with my fellow Warrior Dash-ers in anticipation of the run the following day.  There were various communications sent back and forth, but our destined reunion was still hours away.

Continuing to drive around as was my wont, I decided to explore Lake Oswego, and somehow ended up in West Linn.  Specifically, I went to Mary S. Young Park.  I had the sneaking suspicion that I'd been there before, but couldn't confirm.

I wandered around the park for a bit, then went back to my truck and decided it was time to eat.  I wanted to find something local, but ended up at a link in a restaurant chain that I simply hadn't encountered before.  It was Burgerville.  The food (and shake) was pretty good, but it was nothing to write home about--so to speak.

After that, I went to the hotel to wait out my weekend roomies.  I got there well before they did, and after a brief conversation, found that it might be a while yet.  Feeling very tired, I decided to go to the nearby Starbucks, try to wake up a little bit, then write up some more of my adventure.  It was not to be.  Shortly after arriving and beginning to drink the special coffee drink, I got the call that they were almost there.

I headed once more for my truck, then back to the hotel.  I had been hoping to be there at check-in to see if I could finagle my AAA membership into a discount, but when I arrived, the crew was already in the room.  So, I did the sensible thing, and drove around to it.

It was a Residence Inn, and the room was a two storey affair.  There was a loft with a bed and bathroom, downstairs was a master bedroom with attached bathroom, and a hide-a-bed.  I got the hide-a-bed, but not for a while.  First was dinner, then... costume hunting?

The dinner is explained easily enough: we went to The Olive Garden.  It was two blocks from the hotel. 

Costume hunting... oh, costume hunting.  Let's just say it ended with a plastic chestplate and helmet, and a can or two of spray paint from the Home Depot.  An hour or so later, and a pair of shorts were being spray painted on the balcony.  Don't ask... just... don't ask.

After that, one of the guys and I talked cameras for a while, then we all went our sleepy ways.