Last weekend, we went to Portland. Our visit was filled with errands and events. A haircut. A car wash. A Timbers match. A trip to the library, the credit union, and the post office. A fruit beer festival. A milk carton boat race. A trip to the Apple Store, where we blew all our downsizing and frugality cred, and became ever more douchbaggy creative slacker Apple obsessed clichés.
Look at me, getting artsy fartsy with photos of bridges.
If you go north, you can go 45 mph. If you go south, you can go 50 mph.
You can’t see them, but there are cars on this bridge.
Zooming along on a familiar road, with hundreds or thousands of other people doesn’t really inspire contemplation. But seeing the underside, the concrete, the scale, the skeleton…well, it’s artsy. I always enjoy road imagery. I like driving, I like going places. I like that all roads are connected. I like the implied distance of a familiar road, the possibility of a journey.
Sunday was the Milk Carton Boat Race.
A lone monster contemplates the world from his floating dayglo palace.
No one rocks a milk jug like Mike. Don’t even try it.
These gals are braver than I am.
World domination starts at seven and eight years old. Bravo, girls.
After the milk carton boat race, we went to the Portland Fruit Beer Festival.
A beer fest list getting damp in the rain. We got both sunburned and rained on in the same day.
Roses and kegs. I couldn’t find a coffee cup, bike or hipster to fit in the photo. But the subtlety makes it more artsy, you know?
We’re good at visiting Portland.