Portland- Bicycle Utopia

Just how appropriate is it to start a cross-country bicycle ride in Portland Oregon?  As I sat on the west side of the idle bus at Union Station in downtown  Portland today, awaiting departure to my starting point in Astoria, I was reflecting on the past few hours of wandering through the city since my flight arrived.  I thought of the cool street vendor area of the Pearl District and the creative artist selling his colored glass sun catchers suspended by recycled bicycle parts.

I thought of the conversations I had with two other gentlemen at Union Station, both of whom were also headed to Astoria to start their bike touring. Hank (aka, Crank) was planning to meet up with a friend of his who has a debilitating disease to ride together at a slow pace along the Oregon Coast.  Danny, on the other hand, is a participant in the TransAmerica bicycle race that starts in Astoria on Saturday (I didn't know about this event previously).  He plans to average around 200 mi/day for twenty-some days to reach the Atlantic. This news turned my crazy idea of attempting to ride a bicycle across the US into a not-that-crazy of an idea!  It subdued my anxiety a bit.  

I thought of the designated "bike assembly" area in the baggage claim section at PDX (the Portland airport). And, the huge congregation of bikes locked up just outside the airport doors as their riders were off traveling to bike less-friendly places. 

I thought of the many brief encounters with bicyclists I had. A woman taking off her helmet and gloves as she entered outdoor gear store I was shopping in. The several bicyclists who yielded to me as I crossed the streets. The group of cyclists navigating through heavy traffic on West Burnside St during rush hour. 

All the while, the sun blasting through the window of the bus into my eyes kept flickering. The flicker was almost as distracting as the intensity of the sun. Yes, I'm still talking about Portland, Oregon. It was a beautiful cloudless day (the kind Portlanders lust for).  The filtering of light, like that of an afternoon sun flashing between tree trunks as one drives through a forest, pulled me away from my thoughts as I squinted to see what was happening.  The sun was just above the horizon of the overpass immediately to the west of the bus. The flicker was created by the moving shadows of commuters headed out of the city being cast down onto me. But, these weren't the "typical" commuters you might expect to see in every other city in America. These were bicyclists. I began to pay attention. There were hundreds of them.  Not all at once like a planned group ride or event.  Just at persistent irregular intervals. They had bags on their bikes to carry their belongings. Their bikes equipped with "coffee" cages. Some wearing business casual attire.

I knew I was in the right place.  Portland was welcoming me to the start of my TransAmerica bicycle ride. 

Off to Astoria!